Voldemort and the Daughter of Death
by DivineDebris
Summary: HIATUS... Sorry! - Tom Marvolo Riddle already feared death, but Death's daughter downright scared the crap of him. Connections to the Peverells, Hindu mythology, Greek mythology, origins of Fawkes, Nagini, hot Sirius Black and much, much more! TR/OC SB/OC. Follows alongside and in between canon as closely as possible. Rated M just in case the limes get too... lemony.
1. Let Me Show You The World In My Eyes

**Voldemort and the Daughter of Death**

_Has anyone else seen Meet Joe Black? If you have then you just might understand my fascination with the introductory premise._

_So this was only supposed to be a one-shot, but I've been having too much fun! So it will probably be a two-shot… or a long-shot (hahahahaha, okay, dumb joke)._

* * *

**Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "World In My Eyes" by Depeche Mode**

* * *

**1. Let Me Show You The World In My Eyes**

**May 18****th****, 1291**

Death had looked forward to this day for some time. He glided along the road, making his way to a little house in Godric's Hollow. With an echoing breath, he slipped in the doors and up the steps to where Ignotus Peverell lay.

"My friend," Ignotus exhaled a raspy breath as Death drew near. "Much time has passed since our last meeting, but I am ready now."

Death nodded and extended his hand when a voice caused him to draw back.

"Grandfather, wait." A girl called out from the shadows.

Death turned as a lady so fair stepped into the lamp light.

Her hair, black as night, waved like the echo of a gentle breeze. Her deep silver eyes gleamed in the firelight with the soft dew of her tears. Her lips parted to let in a gentle gasp as she neared Death's eerie, cool frame.

"Please," her voice uttered like notes from the score of a tragically beautiful song. "May I say good bye?"

Death sat spellbound for several moments, entranced by her beauty, but he gradually backed away in a tentative sweeping motion.

He watched the girl's endearing goodbyes, seconds passing into minutes, possibly into hours – Death would not have noticed if years had passed – for so captivated he was by her grace and splendor.

Finally the girl sat up gently, clasping her grandfather's hand one last time before letting it go. She stood up in a steady, slow motion, and approached Death without fear.

"Thank you," she whispered, retreating to the shadows as Ignotus Peverell joined Death on the other side.

But Death caught one last fleeting glance at the angel, vowing to himself that he'd soon return to see her again.

* * *

**July 1950**

Tom Riddle trekked through a rainforest in India in the thick, evening air. He'd heard whispers of the nāga, hidden in the deep of the forest, and he was determined to ally them to his cause. The sky darkened just as he reached a flooded stream, like an omen of impending doom.

Tom laughed darkly, raising his wand to examine his surroundings more clearly. The trees near the bank seemed to be covered by a pale brown network of vines, much resembling devil's snare. He noticed the vine-like branches on the other side as well and cracked a leering grin.

With a whip-like motion of his wand, Tom set to work, raveling the vines together. It took several minutes, as well as a multitude of strengthening and engorgement charms, but he had created a living bridge from the vines that would easily allow him to cross the roaring waters caused by the monsoon season.

After crossing the other edge of the bank, Tom continued to journey deeper into the forest. The noises and sounds emitted from the trees made Tom hopeful that he was nearing his fabled destination, but another noise echoed through the trees, catching him very much off guard.

It was a woman's laugh that set Tom suddenly on edge. Light and airy in timbre, the very essence of it screamed _goodness_, and that was certainly not what Lord Voldemort had traveled into the deep of the rainforest for.

"Who's there?" His shout was unwavering, full of self-assurance. No had ever gotten the best the Lord Voldemort – why would he have reason to doubt now? The voice laughed again, and Riddle spun around at the sight of a woman.

Her skin seemed to exude moonlight, though the trees overhead blocked any hint of the night sky. Her dark, silky waves fell to her waist, and her eyes gleamed brightly from the light of Tom's wand.

"You have traveled far, friend." Her voice had a pleasant tone, sweet and smooth like warm wind. "I was intrigued by your passage across the great river."

Tom glared at the exquisite being. "I have no time for apparitions and no desire to make such acquaintance. Be gone before I curse you into oblivion."

The woman laughed again, much to Tom's surprise and chagrin. Then she stepped ever closer with a smile. "So deep in the forest, young wizard. So dark is your mind, ever grasping for power."

Tom's glare faded into morbid curiosity as the lady continued to speak.

"Do you honestly believe that you could turn the nāga, the wisest and most powerful of all serpents, to your own behest?"

"I do," Tom answered in parseltongue for added effect.

The girl simply rolled her eyes. "Foolish boy. You have no idea what awaits you."

"And neither do you." Tom's eyes flickered red with rage. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The enchantress's smile faded to fury as the spell struck her outstretched hand, which burst into verdant flame.

"HOW DARE YOU!" The ethereal woman held the beam of green light until it turned to ash in her palm.

Young Voldemort backed away, fear finally creeping into consciousness. "What are you?" He brandished his wand, holding as though it was tied to his very life-force.

"Fool." The woman's silvery blue eyes glowed green as she absorbed the killing curse. Then she softened. "Or perhaps I am the fool – for taking a liking to you."

Tom Riddle's eyes flickered for a moment, suddenly calculating the most advantageous way to proceed.

"Forgive me." His eyes gleamed with the utmost sincerity. "Your beauty is so transcendent I surely thought you were a demon – a succubus or perhaps a siren."

She raised an eyebrow. "You amuse me with your sycophantic flattery. I know I am fair and have no need to be told so – however," her voice fell to nearly a whisper, "you intrigue me, Voldemort."

Riddle's eyes grew wide. "You know of my name?"

The woman grinned, and for a moment Tom truly was struck by her beauty. But the moment was fleeting – his thirst for her strange power far outweighed his _other_ desires.

Determined to discover her secrets, and perhaps to utilize them in his own way, Tom opted to resort to a more _innocent_ tactic.

"You're an angel, aren't you…" Tom frowned slightly.

The enchanting lady bit her bottom lip and snickered lightly. "Not even close."

"How many guesses will you give me?" His intense look of earnest caught her off guard.

She felt her heart skip a beat before tentatively replying. "You'll never guess, and quite frankly – it's best if you don't try."

Tom expected as much. "Then, my lovely, mysterious maiden of the wood," He crept ever closer to the stunning girl, "I am certain we can find other matters to discuss." He paused a precious few inches away from her face, smirking adorably. "But first, tell me your name."

Her breath hitched ever so slightly as she inhaled his sweet scent. Then with a relenting exhale she sighed, "Aphiel. My name is Aphiel."

* * *

Tom stayed with the woman for two days while she volunteered to help him prepare for the nāga. And though he'd sooner set a basilisk on himself than admit it – he was beginning to enjoy the girl's company.

Aphiel sat against a root, trying to map out the course Tom was to take. She drew a narrow stick across the soft dirt. "So when you reach the fourth waterfall, you'll go inside and find a hidden door. You'll need to bring tribute to enter – the larger the better…"

Tom found his thoughts straying. Something about the girl tugged at his thoughts.

"Tom? Tom, are you listening?"

He peered into Aphiel's silvery eyes. "You're not human, are you."

"Of course I am; don't be silly."

Riddle's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me."

Aphiel bit her lip. Tom Riddle was no fool. "My mother was witch, but my father was… not."

"You and I are more alike than I thought." Tom's eyes softened. Then he laughed softly, and most uncharacteristically. "I thought for a moment you might be some sort of ghost."

"A ghost?" Aphiel chuckled with the amusement. "A ghost, Tom, really?" She smiled at the absurdity. "Could a ghost do this, Tom?"

Tom tensed as Aphiel brought her hand up slowly, until it finally grazed his chiseled jaw line. His heart beat jumped involuntarily at the touch. No woman had ever evoked bodily responses in him like the ones he was currently experiencing.

He turned away, somewhat unnerved by the revelation. "Well then, not a ghost." He let one last hint of a smile escape before putting on a mask of indifference.

"You must catch the tribute on your own. I'll wait for you by the waterfall." Aphiel's eyes grew misty, clouded by her sudden apprehension for the man before her. "You'll be all right, won't you?"

Tom gazed at her incredulously and let out a chuckle of amusement. "If there's one thing you don't have to worry about with me – it's death."

The two of them stood to go their separate directions when Tom suddenly paused.

"What's wrong, Tom?" Aphiel looked like a seraph as she stood there, her skin alight with the beams of sun.

Tom frowned, not quite sure _what_ his problem was. He stepped hesitantly toward Aphiel and swept a lock of hair behind her shoulder, his hand tingling at the touch of her skin.

Aphiel froze as Tom brought his hand forward. His palm rested at the back of her neck, fingers gently scraping upward into her hair. She exhaled louder than she meant to, and Tom's eyes darkened slightly. He leaned in closer, until their lips were barely a centimeter apart.

"Just in case." He pressed his mouth to hers, overcome by the same tingling sensation as before, now on his lips. Tom Riddle had never cared to kiss a girl, though_ he'd_ been kissed by many, so he wasn't quite sure how to progress beyond the basic technicalities.

Aphiel on the other hand, had been kissed many a time where she was from and had no qualms teaching the handsome wizard how to proceed. Her tongue traced Tom's bottom lip, yielding a sigh of pleasure from the wizard. Then he mimicked her action, causing a familiar moan to escape from her lips.

Then, as if gravity assumed control of their motions, their tongues began to intertwine with one another's – no instruction required. Tom pressed Aphiel into the nearest tree, taking his free hand to grasp her waist tightly.

Aphiel's eyes flew open, inhaling with surprise and dizzying pleasure as she felt every inch of him rub against her hips. Her hands slid their way upward to his hair, massaging into his soft raven-colored tendrils.

Tom began to kiss his way down her neck when a low growl sounded from behind.

Aphiel gasped, tensing with shock at the unanticipated predator. Tom seemed to snap back to reality at the sight of the creature, and a sinister smile spread across his lips.

"Go the waterfall," he breathed in a low resonating tone in Aphiel's ear. "I've found my tribute."

* * *

Aphiel waited for an hour behind the water fall when the humid, hot sensation grew too uncomfortable to bear. Throwing caution to the wind, she stripped her clothes and skipped over to a less treacherous part of the fall, stepping beneath its invigorating downpour. Aphiel twirled a few times beneath the deluge when she felt another presence nearby.

Aphiel turned to see Tom, next to an immobilized Bengal tiger, looking nearly as frozen as the beast itself. A flurry of emotions flew across his face as he saw Aphiel's perfect, naked body, and his mouth fell open slightly.

To his immense surprise Aphiel didn't shy away. The edges of her lips curled into a seductive grin and she simply beckoned him over with an outstretched hand. Tom took a hesitant step forward. Then shaking his head, he peeled his robes off – exposing a toned body the gods would have envied – and joined the angel beneath the torrent of water.

* * *

Thirty minutes – or perhaps a lifetime later – Aphiel and Tom lay together against the cool, smooth rock beneath the falls, their clothing loosely splayed around their bodies. Aphiel felt perfectly content; she'd wanted Tom for years, and now she finally had him.

Tom on the other hand couldn't sort the jumble of thoughts in his mind. Beneath his calm exterior he felt furious with himself for succumbing to such trivial desires. But perhaps he could still work this to his advantage.

He smirked playfully at the young woman beside him and uttered in a whisper, "You're amazing."

"So are you, Tom." Aphiel smiled dizzily.

His face grew a bit more serious, and he leaned closer to the mysterious girl. "Answer me something," he demanded softly.

"Anything," Aphiel whispered in reply.

"Tell me how to become immune to the killing curse."

Aphiel stiffened, leaning slowly away from Tom. "It isn't possible," she muttered, no longer at ease.

"Don't lie." Tom's eyes flickered red.

Aphiel backed away, feeling utterly aghast. "So this was all a ruse then? And I was just another hapless victim of Tom Riddle's unconquerable charms…" She swore to herself, feeling betrayed.

"Answer me." Tom's hand fell near the hilt of his robe, where his wand lay.

Aphiel began to lose her temper. "You are a fool."

"HOW DID YOU BEAT DEATH?"

"_I AM DEATH_!" Her skin cast a translucent glow of flame, her eyes brightening to bright fiery green.

For the first time in his life, Tom Marvolo Riddle was horrified. "That – That's impossible. You said your mother was a witch."

"And so she is." Aphiel calmed slightly. "But my father is _not_."

Terror-struck, Tom ran from the water fall to a spot where he could apparate safely. Surely he could come back and make peace with the nāga another day – any other day. He had spent the last two nights with the daughter of death – and he had just mated with her. Fearing vengeance, he quickly apparated to a small forest in the middle of who-knew-where, swearing _never_ to encounter any semblance of death again…

* * *

**Oooooh, this is so much fun to write.** **Sorry about not getting to my other two stories for a while. I get distracted really easily - SQUIRREL! I'm a silly mood. REVIEW! **


	2. A Compass Wouldn't Help At All

**Thank you for your patience. This story has been a challenge (in a good way), and I sincerely hope the effort pays off. Enjoy!**

* * *

******Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "**Human Behavior" by Björk  


* * *

**2. A Compass Wouldn't Help At All  
**

Aphiel was trapped in limbo, between the mortal realm and the other side, neither of which were currently offering her entrance. She swore loudly, pounding the gate to the underworld, but no matter how she pushed it remained as steadfast as ever. Suddenly a figure of blue smoke solidified before her, laughing harshly.

"You just _had _to lose your temper…" The cloaked man in black cackled.

"Go spread your doom and gloom elsewhere, Moros." Aphiel pouted.

"But that's precisely why I'm here." He loomed over her knowingly. "Per request of your father, of course."

"No," she breathed in denial. "It was a mistake. Tom won't tell a soul."

"Do you really think that matters?" He chortled again, as though her current predicament was the most entertaining thing he'd ever happened upon. "As a half-human you've broken the cardinal rule—" Moros leered, "—revealing the secret of your immortality."

"It's not like I gave him details," she seethed.

"He knows enough," Morose said simply. "And I am here to carry out the terms of your banishment."

"No." She knew exactly what banishment entailed… She would be stripped of her memories forever and be forced to live among mortals.

Moros chuckled menacingly. "Goodbye, niece."

Just as his magic began to take effect Aphiel took heart at a beautiful piercing sound. A beautiful Phoenix surrounded her in flame, and in an instant – she was gone.

Moros simply smirked. That silly bird loved Aphiel, but the magic had already been cast. The phoenix's protection over the girl would have been negligible at best, but just then he felt an odd sense of foreboding emerge in his mind. All he could do now was wait and see what would happen.

* * *

**July 31st, 1950**

Mrs. Dixon opened the door to set out the milk bottles when the sound of crying caused her to nearly drop her basket. In the center of the street lay a tiny baby, surrounded by a thick circle of ash.

Without hesitation Mrs. Dixon rushed into the street and scooped up the baby in her arms.

"You poor thing," she crooned at the child. "How did you land in the middle of the road?"

It was then that the singed piece of parchment caught her eye. She readjusted the babe in her arms, so she could snatch up the paper to read it, but only the word _'Aphiel'_ was clear.

The woman peered strangely at the child who had stopped crying and settled on looking at the sky with a pouty expression.

"What an odd word… _Aphiel_." She let it roll off her tongue just to hear how it sounded.

Then the oddest thing happened. The newborn baby cooed at the sound of her name, staring significantly at the woman.

Mrs. Dixon's eyebrows rose at the oddity of the babe's action. _Could the baby have recognized and understood her own name?_

She shrugged her head. "You know, Aphiel is quite a mouthful of a name. I'll just call you Amy – how does that sound?"

The baby gurgled slightly.

"It's settled then. You'll be Amy Dixon from now on, dearie."

But baby Aphiel didn't hear. She was already fast asleep.

* * *

**July 12th, 1977**

"Professor Dumbledore, it's a pleasure to meet you." The twenty-six year old raven-haired beauty beamed politely as she shook hands with the headmaster.

"Indeed Miss Dixon, I admit I have been rather looking forward to seeing you again. It's been nearly ten years, has it not?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as brightly as ever.

"I'm just happy you remember me at all, sir. Perhaps it will give me an edge on this interview."

She winked playfully, and the headmaster chuckled. "Ah yes. But Miss Dixon, I will be quite honest. Our Ministry Prep course has failed rather dismally the past few terms. I was quite hoping that your experience – coupled with your vivacious views of the wizarding world – would help some of our struggling students to find their way."

She stared knowingly at the professor. "So basically you're hoping that the _hot, young _teacher will bring in a bunch of Aurors for the next few years?"

"I'm delighted that we're on the same page, Amy." The blue in Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not interested in training up a bunch of pansies. I'll accept anyone with at least five OWLs meeting the Exceeds Expectations standard, but only on a probationary period. Anyone not up to scratch in the first two weeks is out."

The headmaster smiled widely. "You have always had a clear plan in your endeavors. It is wonderful to see you putting it to good use. Have your belongings brought to the school as soon as time permits. Term, as you know, begins on September first…"

* * *

**September 1st, 1977**

Lily Evans sat closer to the Marauders than usual. James had acted more _mature_ on the train than in previous years, and it intrigued her. Remus Lupin had always been fairly congenial toward her, so it was no surprise when he included her in their current conversation.

"Have you thought about taking the Ministry Prep class, Lily? Now that Professor Midas is gone I wager it's worth a try."

"Yeah," she nodded in contemplation. "I'm actually quite anxious to see who the new professor will be. I've heard rumors that she was top Auror in the Ministry seven years in a row."

"_She?_" Sirius Black scoffed. "Brilliant… She's probably as old as Dumbledore to boot. I hope she's not like _McGonagall_."

Their banter continued playfully until Remus nudged Sirius lightly in the side, looking slightly dumbstruck. "Padfoot, I don't think the Ministry Prep teacher is quite as old as McGonagall," he trailed off in a slight daze.

Sirius turned to scan along the staff table. "Oi, Moony, what are you on about? I don't even see…" Then he spotted her.

Several of the other older students had noticed her as well. Her dark locks dropped gently around her shoulders, and her silvery robes left little to the imagination in terms of the exquisite shape of her body. But it was her eyes that had Sirius hooked. She had deep silvery-blue eyes that seemed to penetrate to his very soul.

"This – is cracking…" Sirius whispered without blinking.

James laughed heartily and slapped his friend on the back, quickly bringing Sirius back to his senses. "Well, Bob's your Uncle, Padfoot… I'd say someone's in _love_."

Remus and Peter joined in on the laughter, and Sirius socked James in the shoulder to shut him up.

Lily quirked an eyebrow. "Ministry Prep isn't looking quite so bad now, is it, Sirius."

Sirius ran a playful hand through his hair. "You know what, Lily? I don't know what it is—" his grin widened, "—but my whole outlook of the Ministry has completely changed."

They all laughed and finally settled down as the sorting began.

* * *

"Welcome to Ministry Prep, I am Professor Dixon," Amy said rather acidly, pressing her palms into the desk in front of her. "As you know, this course is to prepare you for Auror training. I'll be honest—" her eyes bore into each of the thirty-something students who had signed up for the class, "I'm looking for raw talent for the ministry. You'll need more than just the grades to get through my class."

A few people murmured slightly.

"Book smarts alone won't be enough to save you, so I've constructed an obstacle course of sorts to test your skill. Over the next two weeks you will be tested alone and in groups. Those who qualify will officially become registered in the class and proceed to Ministry pre-training."

Lily raised her hand politely when Professor Dixon reached a stopping point. "What exactly will we be up against in this obstacle course?"

Professor Dixon smiled. "There will be many of the basic creatures you've learned about in your Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum, as well as a number of charms placed in your way to deter you. But in the end, _I _will one you face."

More whispers echoed throughout the classroom.

"Bonus points will be awarded to any student able to disarm me. It may be done at any time during class in the next two weeks, but I warn you—" she smiled warmly, "—you will only get _two _chances to disarm me, so plan your attacks wisely if you wan…"

She stopped speaking immediately as a jet of red light shot toward her, but just as it was about to strike its intended target she held out her hand, _catching it_. It burst into red flame and turned to ash.

"Strike one, Mr. Black." She grinned at Sirius, whose mouth fell open in disbelief. "I suggest you all study up on any information you may _not_ have retained over summer break. You may pair up into groups for the next half-hour to discuss – tactics."

By the end of the first class nearly twenty more students had tried to disarm Professor Dixon, but all had been unsuccessful.

"She's bloody amazing," Sirius threw his head back in astonishment. "Merlin, I'm in love with that woman."

Remus laughed lightly. "Don't set your sights too high, Padfoot. When she's hexed you into oblivion I'm certain you'll have a change of heart." The marauders laughed and descended to the Great Hall for lunch.

The marauders weren't the only ones gushing over the sexy new teacher. Professor Dixon soon began receiving an onslaught of gifts from secret admirers. Each time another parcel would arrive she would glare at the headmaster, who would simply chuckle and go about his business.

After three days Amy decided to confront the problem. Using elaborate forms of anti-secrecy charms and some good old-fashioned black-mailing, she discovered each one of her admirers by the end of the fifth day. She sent them each a carefully worded letter, informing each gentleman – and one female – if she received so much as a fondly written scrap of parchment from them again they would be given two weeks worth of detentions scrubbing toilets.

The admirer letters stopped immediately…

* * *

Classes had been in session for a week and a day when Professor Dumbledore summoned her into his office for a meeting.

"I see your numbers have dropped from thirty-four to eighteen in only a week's time."

Amy laughed softly. "Half of them got scared out of their wits after my received my rebuttal to their love letters." She rolled her eyes.

"Ah yes, your method of tracking each one of them was quite clever if I may say so myself."

Amy looked up at that moment and saw a young phoenix on a perch, and a wave of nostalgia suddenly washed over her.

"Albus, have you always had that phoenix?"

Dumbledore eyed her curiously. "Does he seem familiar to you?"

Her mouth fell open slightly. "I'm not – I don't, I don't know, sir."

"Perhaps you are feeling a connection simply to his form. It seems quite logical, seeing as your animagus is also a phoenix."

"It's more than that," she uttered distractedly. Then she turned vaguely to the headmaster. "I felt the same sense of familiarity the first time I met you, sir. It's – strange."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I'm flattered, Amy, that you've felt so familiar with me from the start. It is entirely possible that you have met this particular phoenix before and simply do not remember it."

"What's his name?" She continued to gaze absentmindedly at the beautiful bird.

The headmaster stared at Amy, watching carefully to see her reaction. "His name is – Fawkes."

Amy inhaled a quiet gasp, and a dim memory blurred into her mind.

"_Oh Fawkes…" Aphiel _stroked the top of the bird's neck. _"I'm sad to let give him up to you, Albus, but I have sensed a great change coming for some time. Your need is greater than mine."_

"_Do not agonize over Fawkes, Aphiel. He will always come to you when your need is great."_

"_Yes, he is truly the greatest of all phoenixes." She bent down to the bird. "I will miss you, my friend, but you must be good to Albus. You may yet play a great part in shaping our future."_

_The bird crooned sadly before perching on Dumbledore's shoulder. _

"_Fawkes will only give two feathers to the Ollivander family, Albus, and don't you dare try to take more."_

_Dumbledore chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it, Aphiel…"_

And just like that, Amy was back in the headmaster's office.

"Is everything all right, Miss Dixon?"

Amy tried to glower at the professor, but she felt much too staggered to glare properly. In fact, she thought she might cry. She gazed up at Fawkes, who tilted his head in recognition.

"I just – I hardly even know." She stood up and strode purposefully to the door, but before turning the handle she peered back toward the headmaster.

"Albus, how long has Fawkes been with you? Permanently, I mean?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened ever so slightly as he smiled. "If I'm not mistaken, Fawkes has been with me these last thirty-five years."

"Oh, Merlin…" Amy nodded hastily to the Headmaster and took off at a run. _What in Salazar's name was going on?_

* * *

**I just had to put young Sirius Black in this story. He's just so freaking awesome. There's so much still to explore, but I'm very excited about it. Voldemort won't be seen directly in the next few chapters, but Aphiel/Amy will have more flashbacks, and he'll be in some. ******** I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **Thanks for reading! -V  



	3. Cloaked In Robes Made of Many Friends

**I totally neglected my Dramione story to update this one, but I couldn't get this one out of my head. And it's my husband's birthday tomorrow, and I've been helping my sister with her morning sickness, so it's been a busy few days. Any road... Enjoy!**

* * *

**********Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "**Godwin" by Brooke Waggoner  


_I can't stand who I am_  
_ A villain with a plan_  
_ Cloaked in robes m__ade of many friends_  
_ Yet I remain in a one man land_

* * *

**3. Cloaked In Robes Made of Many Friends  
**

_Aphiel drew near a massive basin of stone set on the floor. Curiosity drew her ever closer…_

"_The fates probably won't like it if they catch you looking in their time sieve." A striking goddess with smoky hair and blackened eyes laughed softly behind her._

"_Oh. Eris, please don't tell. I won't come in here again."_

"_Oh yes you will." The goddess of strife already had tumultuous plans for the day, but she could spare a few minutes to plant a seed of mischief in her niece. "It's that oh-so-handsome Tom Riddle. You can't stop thinking about him."_

"_There are so many enchantments around Hogwarts," Aphiel lamented. This is the only way I'll be able to see him. _

_Eris shrugged with a devious smile. "It's his last year at that wizarding school, isn't it? Just wait a few months. Surely you can watch him then."_

_Just as Eris had hoped, her words did not calm Aphiel by any means. Instead the girl found herself yearning to find Tom even more than before. "I've never seen such raw power in a wizard in my entire life."_

"_Of course you haven't." Eris drew closer to her niece. "There hasn't been a wizard to equal his power since the Peverell brothers…"_

_Aphiel drew closer to the basin. She just wanted to see him – one – more – time._

"_I will only warn you once, Aphiel. Once you've seen into the Time Sieve, there is no going back."_

"_Don't tell?" Aphiel turned to Eris with pleading in her eyes._

_The mischievous goddess pealed with laughter. "I wouldn't dream of it."_

Amy sat up in her bed, pondering her recent surge of daydreams. Ever since meeting the phoenix named Fawkes she had begun to remember a life beyond her own. There was a netherworld, gods and goddesses, and someone named Tom Riddle who she had apparently been fascinated with.

She rose slowly, trying to consider the onslaught of visions objectively, but the only way to do that was to admit that she had possibly lived before.

_Was that possible?_

She bit her lip, considering the likelihood. Her animagus was a phoenix after all.

* * *

"Who is Tom Riddle, Albus?" Amy sat in front of the headmaster, looking quite ruffled.

He didn't seem altogether surprised to hear the question, though he knew it would not be an easy answer.

"Tom Riddle was a student at Hogwarts many years ago, before you were born…"

"You mean, before _Amy Dixon_ was born." Her jaws clenched in frustration. "Who am I, Albus?"

"Ah." Professor Dumbledore stopped short, considering his next words carefully. "I am afraid, Miss Dixon, that I cannot be sure who you were before, or what happened to cause your rebirth. I can only show you what I _remember_."

The headmaster led her to the pensieve with a vial he had plucked from a vast collection of memories, and together they entered the past.

"_My phoenix seems to have taken a liking to you, sir." _

Amy immediately recognized herself. Her hair was longer than ever, and her countenance seemed vastly more intense than her current state. Everything about this version of herself exuded _power_.

A significantly younger and more handsome Dumbledore nodded a polite but sad smile. _"He is quite a creature, indeed."_

_Aphiel laughed as the bird hopped on Dumbledore's shoulder. "Fawkes, come down, you parrot. The man will think you a tame little bird."_

"_I would never be so presumptuous as to consider a phoenix to be tame." Dumbledore managed to crack a slight smile. "I'm Albus."_

"_Aphiel," she beamed, shaking the young man's hand._

Several memories swirled into view of Aphiel and Albus getting to know one another. Finally the memory of herself giving Fawkes to the Professor emerged.

"I remembered this one already," Amy sighed. "When you said Fawkes's name yesterday."

"Yes, I suspected you would experience a vision of sorts when I mentioned his name."

"But you don't know what I am?" Amy frowned.

"I have _suspicions_ as you'll plainly see in my next memory."

Just as Dumbledore had said, the memory shifted to the next one, and Amy waited with baited breath.

"_Why do you continue to visit me, Aphiel?" _A Dumbledore much closer in age to the present Dumbledore sat across from her in comfortable banter.

"_You're my friend, Albus. I enjoy your company."_

"_And yet, you think nothing of the repercussions of attaching yourself to this world, though you must be well aware of the fact that you have not aged a day since our first meeting."_

_Aphiel straightened. "What makes you think I'm not of this world? Look at your friend, Flamel. Perhaps I have a Philosopher's Stone of my own."_

_Albus gazed at her deeply for several long moments before replying. "The fact, my dear, that you know about the Philosopher's Stone leads me to consider two alternatives. One – that you are a spy and have only made my acquaintance to discover Flamel's secrets, or two – that I am correct in my assumption that you are not completely human and therefore, have the ability to see things that others cannot."_

_Aphiel pursed her lips, knowing she'd been caught. "Well, Albus, perhaps you will understand that the repercussions of divulging that information extend a bit _beyond_ the wizarding world— so forgive me for not telling you which is the truth."_

_He understood perfectly, and – for the first time in many years – a mischievous glimmer sparkled in his eyes. "Then, my dear Aphiel, I must of course assume that you are a spy, and I must shun you from this day forth." They laughed and shifted their now-lively conversation to other topics._

After a few more friendly clips from the past, one last memory emerged, and the present Dumbledore rested a hand on Amy's shoulder.

"This is the last of the memories, and I would advise paying closer attention to this one than the others."

_Albus and Aphiel strolled down Diagon Alley, arm in arm._

"_I'm surprised you invited me for such a public stroll, Albus."_

_Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I will admit I've grown rather fond of your company. And it only took – forty years, after all." _

_Aphiel laughed, but stopped after a moment. She spied an excruciatingly handsome young man departing Flourish and Blotts. _

_Albus caught sight of the dazed look on her face. "Are you all right?"_

"_That young man," she breathed. "I sensed something when he exited the shop."_

_Albus frowned. "That is Tom Riddle. An exceedingly brilliant student of mine, though I will admit he concerns me greatly."_

_Aphiel appeared not to have heard anything after the boy's name. "Tom," she echoed in a slight trance. She looked up at her friend, feeling unsettled. "I'm sorry, Albus, I've just remembered I have somewhere I need to be."_

_Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, watching her as she darted away in the opposite direction._

"And that—" Professor Dumbledore started as they returned to the present, "—is the last I ever saw of Aphiel."

Amy's mouth fell open. "We never saw each other again?"

"Not until you came to Hogwarts as Amy Dixon, and though you still bore _Aphiel_ as your middle name it took a few years to make the connection. Even then, I wasn't completely certain of your true identity until you came in for your interview this summer."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Amy's distress was evident.

"Would you have believed me?"

Amy's face fell. _Of course not._ She looked up at her old friend slowly. "It was because of Tom Riddle, wasn't it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Once again, I can only speculate, but yes, I do believe it was Tom Riddle who drew you away from me."

Amy sat in stunned silence for more than a minute. Then she whispered, "I'm sorry for leaving you, Albus."

The headmaster raised a knowing eyebrow. "We cannot know what destiny awaits us until we choose its path. There is a purpose for each action we have made, and in time, we may discover it."

Amy thanked the headmaster and exited, more confused than she had been when she entered.

* * *

_The following students have been accepted into the Ministry Pre-training program:_

_Black, Sirius_  
_Cauldwell, Oltus_  
_Evans, Lily_  
_Fenwick, Benjy_  
_Jones, Malena_  
_Lupin, Remus_  
_McKinnon, Marlene_  
_Potter, James_  
_Prewett, Fabian_  
_Prewett, Gideon_  
_Richmond, Gilby_  
_Selwyn, Zeta_  
_Vance, Emmaline_  
_Willerby, Woodruff_

_Classes will continue per usual, three times weekly. Please wear dueling attire to your first training session, Monday – September 25th. Thank you, _

_Aphiel Dixon_

"That's odd." Remus's finger hovered over Professor Dixon's name. "I thought her name was Amy."

"It _is_ Amy." Lily brushed up next to the marauders, and James darkened a shade or two at her touch. "Aphiel is her middle name."

"Her name could be _mud_ for I care," Sirius stretched exaggeratedly. "She's a bloody goddess."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Prongs, you'd better knock some sense into Padfoot on the Quidditch pitch tonight. I haven't seen him wink at another girl since he stepped off the Hogwarts Express."

Sirius looked offended. "Mooney, you're barmy." He offered an overcompensating wink to the next pretty girl who passed their way, resulting in a loud fit of giggles from a group of fifth years. "I'm on top of my game!" He walked away in a bit of a strut, and the others stifled a laugh.

"He – he's got it bad," Peter joked quietly from behind.

James turned to his friend. "Wormtail, it's hard lines you didn't get in. Training will be plain dull without you, mate."

Peter looked rather touched by James's kind sentiments. "Oh no, I was never as clever as the rest of you. I'm sure you can teach me some of the stuff you learn on your own time."

"Oh course we will!" Remus gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Every spare moment we'll practice together. We're _marauders_!"

Lily, James, Remus, and Peter walked down to the Great Hall, feeling in much higher spirits.

* * *

Since the visions of her past were returning day by day, Amy decided to go by her true name once again. It confused a few of her fellow staff members when she insisted out of the blue that they begin calling her _Aphiel_, but the murmuring gradually subsided.

The afternoon before her first official training session Aphiel slipped into yet another daydream, letting the memory sink fully into her thoughts…

"_Aphiel, this is a pleasant surprise." A handsome Dumbledore in his thirties greeted the ageless beauty as she stepped gracefully into his home._

"_Albus! I've missed you. Hogwarts keeps you away from me for too long."_

"_Yes, my dear, but Hogwarts keeps _me _away from many of the greater evils that would tempt lesser men. Were I a lesser man, in fact, I surely would not have gone to Hogwarts."_

"_Well, I am glad that you chose to come home – at least for a short while." She glided over to where he was reading his paper and sat beside him. "For every inch of this world I've been to I've never had a confidant such as you."_

_Albus peered up from his paper. "Haven't you?"_

"_People like me aren't meant to make friends, I suppose—" She scooted a bit closer. "—Sometimes I can't help but wonder if friendship is all it is…"_

_Albus set down his paper completely. "Am I to understand that you believe there could be _romantic_ inclinations to our relationship?"_

_Aphiel blushed, "I honestly don't know, Albus. I mean, we've known each other for ten years now. I suppose I figured the time to explore that possibility would have come by now."_

"_I see." Dumbledore stared at her gravely. "What do you suggest we do, my dear?"_

_She looked resolved. "I think we should kiss, Albus – just to see if there's anything there—" His eyebrows rose quite high. "—And if there's absolutely nothing, then at least I'll know for sure."_

_After several seconds Dumbledore exhaled a resigned sigh. "Very well, Aphiel. '_For the Greater Good'._" Albus leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers._

_It was awful, like having to kiss a sibling… _

_"Merlin's Dog!" Aphiel pulled away, scrunching her face into a grimace, and Dumbledore began to chuckle heartily. Soon she too joined the laughter, all awkwardness left behind after engaging in the graceless experiment._

Back in the present, Aphiel's subconscious felt dissatisfied by the memory. A lingering desire for more began to burn beneath the surface, and she felt a nagging sensation pull at her mind.

A flicker of a passionate kiss shared with an unknown face blinked in and out of consciousness. She strained, trying to _grab_ the memory somehow—until finally it erupted to the surface.

"_Tom," Aphiel ran her hands through the Riddle's hair as he kissed his way down her jaw line. "Oh, Merlin…"_

"_Leave _him_ out of this," he breathed raggedly in her ear and laughed softly._

_She moaned as their bodies rocked in harmony. She might have even screamed with pleasure, but the sound of the waterfall drowned out the noise._

_Tom looked more powerful than ever, eyes gleaming as he made love to his mystery maiden… _

Aphiel sat upright in her bed, eyes wide. It felt disjointed having such intimate memories when she had never so much as snogged a man in her current state. And who was this Tom Riddle – _whose mere memory_ kept getting her all hot and bothered?

She checked the time and realized that she had only a few minutes to get to Dumbledore's office for an urgent meeting he'd called earlier in the day. Slipping her shoes back on, Aphiel crept from her door toward the headmaster's office – but still imagining Tom Riddle's lips on her own.

* * *

**So I was sort of planning on putting the obstacle course in the chapter, but then I changed my mind... o.O Lol, And too bad things didn't work out with Albus. I thought that was pretty funny actually. **

**Things are going to get tricky in the following chapters; I just hope I'm able to do them justice. Thanks for reading. Hope you liked! -V**


	4. Meiosis

_I've been really sick for the last while. I'm not better, per se, but I'm better able to cope with what's happening, and I'm glad to be back. _

**Note: I accidently messed up a few of the dates in the story. This has since been corrected. Thanks!**

* * *

******Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "Meiosis" by Roger Sellers. It's instrumental, but the title and music convey the strange and confusing changes going on within Aphiel. Not to mention that Roger Sellers used to be a friend of mine, and I will endorse his musical genius to the ends of the earth!  
**

* * *

**4. Meiosis  
**

Professor McGonagall was already seated, along with several other of the Hogwarts teachers by the time Aphiel arrived at the headmaster's office. Much to her dismay, she had apparently been the last person they were waiting for.

"Thank you for coming on such late notice." Dumbledore faced the other professors, looking grim. "As you know there has been a growing threat in the wizarding world—Strange and unexplainable murders have been occurring, and nasty incidents have erupted across the countryside without so much as a trace of the perpetrators. I am here to tell you that our greatest fears have been realized—" A few of the professors murmured to one another. "We have a rising enemy," Dumbledore spoke with unflinching calm, "And his name— is _Voldemort_."

Professor Slughorn shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Aphiel felt a vague sense of déjà vu.

"We have heard whispers of this new _Dark Lord, _and I fear that most of the rumors are indeed true. He is every bit as dangerous as the wizard Grindelwald was in his prime, but this 'Lord Voldemort' – as he is called – is more subtle. I would advise all of you to exercise great caution during your travels, and please advise your students to do the same. The time may soon come that name '_Voldemort'_ instills the same fear in their hearts that Grindelwald caused in ours…"

The other professors spoke gravely to one another, gradually filtering out of the headmaster's office until only Aphiel and Albus were left.

"Ah, Miss Dixon, I see your mind is full of warring thoughts. Would you care for a cup of tea while you attempt to settle your mind?"

Aphiel nodded slightly, and Dumbledore handed the witch a steaming hot cup.

"It's just this feeling I have, Albus—" The headmaster peered at her curiously. "—I don't think mere warning to the staff is enough."

"Then, my dear, what do _you_ suggest?"

She didn't speak for several seconds. The idea that kept nagging her mind seemed a bit outlandish, to be honest, but the more Aphiel tried to cast the idea away, the more urgently it pricked at her thoughts.

Finally she sighed, "I think we should form a secret group to defend ourselves against this Dark Lord."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Are you saying that the Aurors of the Ministry are not enough to defend Britain?"

She bit her lip. "Yes," she replied slowly. "That's exactly what I'm saying…"

* * *

Ministry Prep proved to be more difficult than anyone could have imagined. Three of the fourteen students selected for Pre-training dropped the class by Halloween, and two more finally cracked from the strain around Christmas. That left nine students from the original thirty-four, and those who were left couldn't help but feel a bit nervous as their final practical exam before Christmas drew near.

"Evans, pick up the pace," Aphiel shouted across the room. "Fenwick will have you in five seconds, and then it'll be the dog's dinner…"

Lily pushed faster along the course Professor Dixon had designed, but her classmate was still gaining. Thinking on her feet, Lily cast a patronus to buy her some time. The silvery doe ran in circles around Benjy, distracting him for several seconds, until Lily managed to leap to the marked 'apparition point' to safety.

"Well done, Lily. Well done!" Aphiel beamed. "It is not my intention to discriminate, but as you are muggle-born you will always be more of a target than the others. Take note, everyone—" She turned to face the rest of the class, "—Lily used an unconventional method of defense to distract her opponent. When you are running for your life, whether from the dreaded Death Eaters or You-Know-Who himself, you must think well outside the typical bounds of your mind. _Anything_ could tip the balance between death and life. Ten points to Gryffindor for Lily's brilliant escape. I'll see you all on Wednesday."

"Wow." James walked hand-in-hand with Lily toward the Great Hall. "Does anyone else get the feeling that Professor Dixon's lessons seem a bit more – urgent lately?"

"I know what you mean, Prongs," Sirius mused aloud. "It almost as though she really thinks we're fighting for our lives."

"But we are, aren't we?" Remus joined the conversation. "Haven't you read what's been going on outside these walls? And it's more than just wizards…"

Lily shuddered, and James held his girlfriend's hand more tightly. As much as they hated to admit it, each of them knew the moment they left from Hogwarts they would have to fight for much more than their lives.

* * *

"And how has your memory served you as of late?" The headmaster sat across from Aphiel in his office during the winter break.

"I've been remembering a lot of my early life – stories my mother used to tell me about her family." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I was never able to tell you before, but Ignotus Peverell was my great-grandfather."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore's intrigue was vastly heightened.

"Yes, my mother and her brother lived with him during his final years. Their father had disappeared with that great invisibility cloak shortly before Ignotus died."

"How very fascinating," Albus breathed. He wanted to discover more of Aphiel's mysterious parentage, but he refrained, if only out of the deepest respect for his friend.

"But I've been seeing this rainforest too. Somewhere in India from what I can tell."

"Am I correct in assuming that this rainforest to which you are referring is the very same forest in which you met Tom Riddle?"

"I think so," she blushed. Aphiel had only shared the most basic of details from her memory, excluding details of the tryst that had occurred by the waterfall. "I'm certain I'd been there before though, independent of my meeting with Tom."

"Perhaps a visit to this mysterious jungle may shed some light on your past."

"Perhaps," Aphiel echoed with a mild sense of foreboding.

* * *

"Hello, class," Aphiel greeted her remaining nine students intensely. "You've had it easy the past few months, so this term classes are going to be a bit – different."

James sighed exaggeratedly. He knew 'different' meant _difficult._

Professor Dixon ignored his loud exhale and went on. "You've gotten used to the reactions and skill sets of your classmates, so I've decided to toss things up a bit. _Come on in!_" she shouted toward her office door.

Three men and two women entered the classroom.

"These are currently the top aurors at the Ministry of Magic: Alastor Moody, Dorcas Meadowes, Edgar Bones, and Frank and Alice Longbottom. I trust each of them with my life and trust that they will help _you_ prepare yourselves for life outside this school. Alastor, would you like to begin?" Aphiel retreated to the far wall along her office and watched the class curiously.

The gruff man missing an eye stepped forward and nodded to the class. "I'm not one for proper introductions—you all have five seconds before we attack."

The students reacted slowly, as if in disbelief, but when a jet of red right sailed toward Emmaline Vance, the response quickened.

Aphiel observed from the back of the room as her former colleagues battled her students. James lost his wand trying to cover too many of his friends, but Sirius managed to summon it back from an impressed Frank Longbottom. Lily disillusioned herself to add the element of surprise, but Alastor was able to see past the guise with his magical eye and took her down quickly. After several minutes of mock fighting the only two still in play were Moody and Sirius Black, but Alastor quickly gained the upper hand when Sirius paused to laugh at his opponent.

"You're arrogant, boy," Moody's eyes narrowed, "but a fine fighter." He extended his hand and lifted an exhausted but satisfied Sirius to his feet.

Remus heaved a sigh by the end of class. "Have you ever had a class so intense?"

Lily shook her head. "We certainly have a lot to learn."

* * *

The term flew by, and those in the Ministry Prep class learned more than ever. Professor Dixon was pleased at having had such devoted students.

"Class, I'm exceedingly proud of your efforts this term," Aphiel peered at the nine and grew a bit emotional. I wish you well on your exams…"

"Won't you be there to test us?" Sirius exclaimed. His unrelenting crush on the captivating teacher was still at large. Any chance to see her was one he had to seize.

"Unfortunately, no." She bit her lip. "I have some important business to attend to in another part of the world."

"What part?" Benjy squeaked.

Aphiel rolled her eyes and smirked. "That's classified."

"So, are we ever going to see you again?" Sirius pressed.

Aphiel laughed. "What do you think we've been training for, Black? I have the feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other very soon."

James sniggered behind Sirius until Lily smacked him on the arm.

When class ended Sirius lingered by the entryway as Professor McGonagall shuffled past. He listened intently at their whispered conversation.

"Are you certain, Aphiel, about this _quest_ to India? There are rumors of creatures with magic more ancient than any wizard. The dangers alone…"

"… are negligible, Minerva. I have to do this, and I hope you can respect mine and the headmaster's decision by not sharing this information with any of the staff."

"I would never betray the confidence of my associates," Professor McGonagall huffed indignantly. Then she softened slightly, "but, Aphiel, I must ask you to reconsider your insistence on going alone. Even Albus would surely accompany you with a mission such as this."

"Professor Dumbledore agrees that I must do this unaccompanied. Don't worry, Minerva, I'll be back before the first meeting."

Before Sirius had time to escape Professor McGonagall appeared at the door. "Sirius Black, explain yourself this instant!" She grabbed his ear, dragging him back into the classroom in front of a wide-eyed Aphiel. "Professor Dixon, this – hooligan – was listening at the door and undoubtedly heard every word of our conversation."

"Minerva, let me deal with him." Aphiel dismissed the transfiguration teacher without another word. Then turning to Sirius, she pressed her lips together, disappointment clear in her features. "I expected more from you, Mister Black."

Sirius flushed furiously. "I'm sorry, professor, I just wanted to say goodbye."

"And yet, I now find myself in quite a dilemma. I just don't know what to do with you, Sirius."

In spite of her warning, Sirius felt his heart race. She had addressed him by his first name for the very first time.

"What are you going to do – professor?"

Aphiel grinned and flicked her wand toward the door, causing it to slam shut. "First I'm going to ensure that I have no more eavesdroppers." She sealed the door and cast a silencing charm around the room.

Sirius glanced around the room, feeling suddenly nervous.

"Now, Sirius, I cannot impress enough how essential it is that no one find out about my mission—" Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "—Even your marauder friends can't know. You four have a tendency to run your mouths off, if you know what I mean."

Sirius nodded dumbly, fully aware that he was completely at her mercy.

"In due time you and your friends will understand exactly what's going on, but for now, you must swear complete and utter secrecy concerning anything you heard between Professor McGonagall and myself."

He grew a bit braver. "And what if I don't?"

Aphiel smiled placidly. "Then I'll modify your memory and have you believing you're a thirteen year old girl with a raging affection for a certain Severus Snape."

He stepped back in complete disbelief. "Ouch, that's low."

"But if you do keep my secret— " she stepped closer to Sirius until they were inches apart, causing his hormones to go haywire. "—I can promise that you won't regret it."

"I agree. I promise," Sirius spouted quickly. As soon as the room became unsealed, he raced toward the Gryffindor common room, mind full of inappropriate thoughts he _wouldn't_ regret.

* * *

**I adore young Sirius. Thanks for reading! -V**


	5. A Black Wood of Disguise

_The next two chapters get a bit weird, going into the background of Aphiel's connection to the snakes and phoenixes. I hope it's not too far off base. Enjoy!_

* * *

******Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "**Fresh Pair of Eyes" by Brooke Waggoner

* * *

**5. A Black Wood of Disguise  
**

**June 1978**

After nearly a month of searching the vast rainforests of India, Aphiel finally found the waterfall from her memories. Holding a sacrifice in her hands – a colorful pink and white dove – she approached the cavern entrance, pressing the blood of the animal into the wall of rock.

Aphiel carefully traipsed down the stone steps, passing the torches lit with everlasting fire. Hissing noises followed her steps, growing in volume as she approached a large hall filled with giant snakes.

The largest snake of all shifted his features until he resembled a man, and a long-buried memory emerged in her mind.

_**India, 1842**_

_The giant snake rose high in front of Aphiel before transforming into a king in rich tribal garb. "Daughter of Death, you have betrayed our friendship for the Garuda."_

"_The phoenix came to me. He has caused you no harm, king."_

_Hisses echoed throughout the cavern. "The garuda and their descendants are sworn enemies to the nāga. Your companionship with the phoenix cannot go unavenged."_

"_If you attack on such innocent grounds, then I will be forced to remove the protective wards from your land. Man will discover and pillage your forests in the name of industry. The snake will be driven from the rainforest, and the waterfalls will be reduced to sightseeing for the common tourist."_

_A low hush swept through the caves. Finally the king replied. "The nāga relinquish their intentions to attack our longstanding allies. So long as the lady swears never to bring the garuda or any other of their kin into our land, we will maintain the bonds of our alliance agreed upon centuries ago."_

* * *

The king appeared far more congenial in the present.

"The nāga heard of your banishment from the underworld, and yet you have discovered our hiding places once again, during the monsoon season, no less. What brings the great lady Aphiel to our realm?"

Taking a deep breath, Aphiel placed the dove on an altar before the king. "I have come to reinforce the wards around your land—and to inquire what knowledge you may have of Tom Riddle."

The room grew deathly quiet. "The parseltongued wizard you brought to our cliffs so many years ago… Yes, the nāga remember him well."

"So he came to you?"

"Yes," the snake king's eyes narrowed. "Bearing the great tiger, with his fancy words, the boy was after the elixir of immortality—" Aphiel gasped at the nāga leader's words. "—He never got it, but the boy charmed our youngest Nagini. She followed him into the open world and never returned.

"I'm so sorry," Aphiel gazed sadly at the nāga surrounding her.

"Yes, the Lord Voldemort's flattery was tempting to many of the nāga in our tribe."

"_Voldemort_?" Aphiel tensed. "What does he have to do with Tom Riddle?"

The king gazed at her dubiously. "Has banishment so clouded your memory? Tom Riddle _is_ Lord Voldemort."

Aphiel's breathing grew labored as each and every memory of Tom returned with a vengeance. _Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort._ The man she had sought so desperately – the man she yearned for in the night – was Lord Voldemort?

* * *

"Do you think we should start without her?" Edgar Bones glanced at Albus Dumbledore with uncertainty. The entire Ministry Prep class, a few trusted Aurors, Minerva McGonagall, and an extremely nervous Peter Pettigrew all looked to the headmaster, awaiting his reply.

"She will be here," Albus peered at Edgar with such authority, the Auror dared not to speak another contrary word.

As if on cue, Aphiel apparated on the ground in front of the group, slamming hard on wooden slats of the old Dumbledore home.

"Professor Dixon!" Lily and a few others shouted in relief and concern at the teacher's disheveled countenance.

"Aphiel, my dear—" Albus helped the witch to her feet. "—I trust you've found what you were searching for." He eyed her knowingly.

Her lips trembled as though she were about to cry, and she nodded softly. The revelation of Voldemort's true identity still haunted her to the core.

"Miss Dixon, what happened to you?" Minerva zapped her fellow professor with a few well cast cleansing spells.

Aphiel, now looking far more presentable, shook her head in a slight daze. "I just – discovered a few things about You-Know-Who's past. I'm not sure if it will help us yet though."

Before the throng of voices could get too out of hand, Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. "Alas, the last member of our group has arrived; therefore I think we should begin."

"Agreed," Minerva seconded the headmaster.

The group listened in rapt silence as Dumbledore started. "As you are aware by now, Lord Voldemort's followers have increased steadily over the past several months. With disappearances and mysterious deaths on the rise it is imperative that we gather together to defeat both known and unknown dark forces." Every face in the crowd nodded, united in purpose. "Alastor Moody has informed me that the Aurors alone cannot alone be relied upon for aid, as the Ministry has begun to suspect double agents within their ranks."

"So you want us to start our own secret group?" Remus raised a curious eyebrow.

"In truth, credit for this organization belongs to Professor Dixon. I simply offered my home as a meeting place and sent the invitations." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

There was awed silence for several seconds, until James decided to interrupt. "So… does this top-secret organization have a name, or are we just 'the random group of people who don't like You-Know-Who'?"

Aphiel bit her lip, exchanging a long glance with Dumbledore…

* * *

"Okay," Aphiel peered at the parchment in her hand. "So far our name choices are _The Order of Light_, _Army of Goodness_, _Voldemort's Knickers?_ Oh yes, I see Sirius put that one…" She scrolled down the list over a few more choices. "_Demise of Darkness_, _Freedom Front_, _Defense Against the Death Eaters_… come on, you guys. Seriously?"

Dumbledore stepped forward, and the murmuring that had been filtering around the room quieted. "Before we vote I would like to offer one last possibility. As this group was Miss Dixon's idea, I think it would be more than fitting to name it, in a sense, _after her_. Therefore I suggest _The Order of the Phoenix_."

Aphiel gasped quietly. The name was much more than herself. After all, Dumbledore's patronus and animagus was also a phoenix, though hardly anyone knew it… The name was perfect, and everyone standing before her seemed to agree.

"Order of the Phoenix!" Sirius cheered enthusiastically, and the others followed suit.

"All right then." Aphiel couldn't help but smile. "Everyone gather together then, and I'll take the picture."

"But you're a co-founder!" Remus protested. "Surely you should be in the picture, more than any of us."

"I hate being in pictures, so don't even try to argue," she glared lightheartedly, before cracking a grin. "All right, everyone – smile and say, '_Voldemort's Knickers'_!"

* * *

**July 1978**

A man with long blond hair and a sneer etched into the lines on his face faced his master.

"Malfoy, I have been told you have news for me," Lord Voldemort spoke unquestioningly.

"Yes, master. There have been whispers of a – resistance, my Lord." Young Lucius Malfoy hesitated.

"Go on," Voldemort clenched his jaw in dissatisfaction.

"None of the students from Hogwarts Ministry Pre-training program have applied for Auror training." Lucius proceeded cautiously. "Rumor has it that these students, and other various members of the wizarding community, have joined forces with Albus Dumbledore in an attempt to defeat you."

Much to Lucius Malfoy's surprise – and relief – his master began to laugh. The laughter carried stridently through the halls. "Oh, but young Malfoy, this is good news. The ministry underestimates our numbers, and whatever secret society has been formed to defeat us will surely be crushed. Albus Dumbledore will beg for mercy by the end." Laughter continued to ring out through the dilapidated shack in which they stood.

Lucius stood in perplexed silence by his master's side until the laughter subsided.

Voldemort paused when a stray thought entered his mind. "Who is the professor in charge of the Ministry Pre-training?"

"Amy Dixon, my Lord."

"Ah yes," Voldemort nodded. "The Auror prodigy. She will be first to die."

Lucius nodded and was dismissed by his master. Lord Voldemort had to plan the destruction of Albus Dumbledore and anyone else who dared to stand in his way.

* * *

**August 1978**

"Sirius, is there a reason you linger so long after every meeting?" Aphiel packed all the notes from the night's meeting into a tiny capsule with the flick of her wand. "Rest assured, I'm quite capable of apparating myself home."

Sirius swaggered over to his former professor, confidence oozing with every step. "I've been thinking – Aphiel—" he grinned that he could finally speak to the witch so informally. "—I happen to recall a promise made to me a few months ago, regarding a certain trip to India, and not telling anyone about it."

Aphiel stopped short and stared right into his silvery eyes. "I remember."

"So, _Aphiel_, I believe you owe me," he grinned widely.

Aphiel pursed her lips, but decided to play it cool. She sighed and strolled closer to the expectant young man. "Tell me, _Sirius_—" she enjoyed watching him shiver as his name rolled off her tongue. "Do you regret keeping my promise?"

"I have no regrets." His voice lowered, and his eyes darkened ever so slightly.

Suddenly she gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Then it looks like I don't owe you anything!" She backed away with an evil grin. "Thanks for keeping my secret, Black."

"Oh, come on!" Sirius wouldn't give up that easily. "I was only going to ask for one thing."

"Oh, I know what you want, Black," she smirked, heading toward the front door. "And you're not getting it tonight."

"Then I _will_ get it eventually?" His eyes widened hopefully.

She grinned, peering over her shoulder from the entryway. "Goodnight – _Sirius._" Then with a mischievous grin, she disappeared from view with a loud 'pop'.

Sirius threw himself back on the chaise in Professor Dumbledore's sitting room, contemplating how it all went wrong, but before he could sulk too much an explosion of light burst in through the window.

Albus and Minerva hastened in to join Sirius, and their eyes immediately fell on the fiery blue ghost of a phoenix before their eyes.

"Albus—" Aphiel's voice echoed from the patronus. "There are Death Eater's in my house. Alert the others, and make sure they're safe."

Minerva paled as the phoenix flickered out of sight, but Sirius jumped to his feet. "Come on, we've got to save her."

"Sirius, I applaud your gallantry, but Aphiel does not need to be saved. Minerva, alert the others, and make sure they are able to put protective wards around each of their homes…"

Sirius immediately grew irritated at the headmaster's serene composure. "What about Aphiel?" he shouted. "You're just going to let her get captured by Voldemort's _Death Eaters_?"

"Of course he's not, Mister Black. Albus surely has a plan in action to ensure her escape," Minerva retorted indignantly.

"I appreciate your honorable rebuttal, Minerva, but Sirius is correct in this case. I have no intention of coming to Miss Dixon's aid, nor should any of you."

Sirius felt like punching the headmaster, but it was Professor McGonagall who rejoined angrily. "What do you mean, _we shouldn't come to Miss Dixon's aid?_ Albus, you had better…"

"Minerva!" Dumbledore's voice rang out with such authority that she immediately fell silent. "I am quite certain it is Aphiel's intention to be captured. Rest assured she will not die, even if she comes face to face with Lord Voldemort himself."

Sirius and Professor McGonagall grudgingly accepted his explanation, and proceeded to warn the others.

* * *

"Where is she, Lucius?" Voldemort uttered with sheer bliss as the morning rays peaked in through the windows. "The Dark Lord has business to attend to with this _Amy Dixon_."

"She's bound in the upstairs room," Lucius bowed to Voldemort as he swept past him.

The room was pitch black as Voldemort entered. "Miss Dixon, we meet at last. I trust your accommodations are suitable?" he scoffed facetiously.

"Oh sure, I've got a soft spot for darkness." She rolled her eyes at the irony.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself now that you are prey to my Death Eaters?" Voldemort sneered toward the obscured shadows.

Aphiel peered sadly at the once-handsome man who had captured her heart so fully. "Well, I wish I could say it's good to see you. You've got a bit less _soul_ than I remembered."

Voldemort hissed furiously, "How do you know about my soul?" He stepped closer in the darkness, grabbing her by the throat. "Answer when Lord Voldemort asks a question."

Aphiel simply laughed when Voldemort released his grip to let her speak. "Oh, Tom," she sighed. "I'd know your soul better than anyone."

Voldemort froze. _Her laughter. _It was so familiar. The easy depth of her voice carried into a long forgotten cavity in the Dark Lord's mind. "It cannot be. You are muggle-born."

"That's what I thought too, Tom – until I started to remember my previous life."

A ball of green fire appeared in Aphiel's hand, which was no longer bound, and Voldemort edged against the wall at the sight of her lovely but haunting face.

"You see, Tom, this life was a part of my destiny. With the name my adopted muggle mother gave to me, I was able to _fashion a new name_."

Using her finger like the end of a wand, she spelled out the letters in green fire:

_Amy Aphiel Dixon_

Then sweeping her hand across the letters they danced into their new places, forming the words:

_I Am Lady Phoenix_

Voldemort was clearly struck with terror by this point. Once again he found himself face to face with Death's daughter. _Death. _In a swift movement he fled from the room, leaving the door open, and Aphiel couldn't help but shake her head at the '_mighty_' Lord Voldemort.

* * *

**Next chapter - Sirius/Aphiel "interaction". That is all I will say. lol. Thanks for reading! -V**


	6. Accidents Waiting To Happen

**I'm so excited about all the reviews/favs/follows. In case you're interested, I have links on my profile for who I picture as some of the characters. Note: Young Sirius is my dream man! lol. Enjoy!**

* * *

******Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "**There There" by Radiohead

* * *

**6. Accidents Waiting to Happen  
**

Many of the members of the Order, the Pre-training students mostly, departed their homes immediately following Dumbledore's warning, most of them choosing to congregate in the headmaster's sitting room. Some, like Lily and James, fell asleep early on, resting soundlessly on the couch. Others, like Sirius, were so worried that they couldn't sleep at all. And then there was Peter, whose snores could deafen the entire lower level of the house.

"Don't worry, Padfoot," a half-asleep Remus patted Sirius on the arm. "If Albus says she'll be all right, then she will be."

Sirius was just nodding off to sleep amid the morning rays when a loud 'pop' jolted him to his senses. Aphiel, sporting a few bruises and tired grin, wobbled into view.

"Aphiel!" Sirius bounded over to the exhausted witch and threw his arms around her. "You're all right? What happened?"

The Prewetts, Remus, and a few others gathered around as she caught her breath. "Well—" she calmed herself with great effort, "—to tell the truth – Voldemort is a bit terrified of me."

Awkward silence followed until Remus spoke up in a low voice. "But isn't Dumbledore the only wizard You-Know-Who fears?"

Aphiel bit her lip. If they were to understand, she would have to reveal the whole story of how she first met Tom Riddle.

She opened her mouth to speak when a pillar of dark blue clouds appeared across the room, and out of the darkened smoke stepped an even more sinister figure.

In an instant every person in the room had their wand pointed at the mysterious, cloaked man.

"In the name of the Order of the Phoenix—" Sirius shouted bravely, "—We command you to identify yourself and tell us how you came to be here."

The man laughed low and cold. "Impetuous wizard. Fidelius charms can only be used against mortals."

Realization dawned on Aphiel. "Moros?"

"You remember." Moros turned and frowned at his niece. "I underestimated your little phoenix."

"Leave Fawkes out of this," she seethed at her uncle.

"I have no quarrel with the bird, Aphiel. In fact, we are indebted to him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your father is pleased with the mortal path you have chosen and your resilience to darkness. He has _reconsidered_ your banishment from the other side and its gateways."

The Order members listened in perplexed silence as the stranger continued to address their leader.

"You can come back home, Aphiel. You can live with the gods again."

Sirius swore under his breath. He had always known there was more to Aphiel than met the eye, but not even _he_ had expected her to be a demigoddess.

"No." Aphiel whispered so softly Moros wasn't quite sure what he had heard.

"What did you say?"

"Mortal or Immortal, I'm not returning to the netherworld."

"Very well—" Moros shrugged. "—Your father's decree is unconditional. All you need do is assume your phoenix form. Enjoy… displaced immortality." He disappeared as quickly as he came.

Exactly three heart pounding seconds passed before James spoke up. "Hang on— you're immortal?"

* * *

Dumbledore made certain the Order would not or _could not_ divulge Aphiel's secret, especially now that she was once again a potentially immortal being.

"So _that's _why You-Know-Who is so terrified of you?" Sirius mused. "Your father is _Death?_"

"But how is that even possible?" Lily held hands with James, who appeared equally dazed at the news.

Aphiel shrugged. "He's a god of the netherworld who met my mother and fell in love with her."

"Huh," was all Sirius could reply. He was calculating the nearly non-existent odds of attaining his dream girl. _It didn't look good._ "… Bollocks," he whispered to himself.

* * *

Upon Amy Aphiel Dixon's mysterious escape several of the Dark Lord's followers had murmured, questioning his power, and Voldemort had no choice but to punish them severely. Fortunately a young new follower had recently proved a most diligent disciple.

"You have news for me, Severus." Voldemort beckoned the black-haired boy forward.

Severus Snape bowed low before his master. "I have pertinent information regarding a few of the Ministry Pre-training students."

"Proceed."

"James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin belonged to a gang known as the Marauders whilst at Hogwarts. Peter Pettigrew was also a member, but I witnessed several times that their friendship became somewhat strained when he did not make it into the Ministry Prep class."

"Interesting."

"Pettigrew has always followed in their footsteps, and I have no doubts that he is a member of whatever organization the headmaster has assembled."

Voldemort rubbed his chin in deep thought. "So, you believe this Peter Pettigrew is the weak link?"

"I have no doubts, master, that he can be swayed to our cause. Pettigrew has always lurked where power is near, and with tensions at an all time high, he will soon doubt his friends."

"Very good, Severus. This will take time and planning, and perhaps – a woman's touch. Bring Bellatrix to me."

* * *

Meetings for the Order of the Phoenix were fewer and farther between as the next school year began at Hogwarts. James and Lily got engaged, and the Marauders found themselves spending less and less time together. Aphiel quit the post of Ministry Prep teacher and took the reign on whatever meetings had to be conducted without the headmaster. But, while she led the meetings with power and assertiveness, Sirius began to notice how withdrawn she was becoming between each gathering. Finally, he decided to confront her.

"What are you doing here, Sirius? There's no meeting until next week."

Sirius strolled into Dumbledore's home, where Aphiel was temporarily residing. "I know," he shrugged coolly. "I just noticed you've been a bit put out lately and thought I could help."

"I've been contemplating mortality, I suppose."

Sirius frowned. "You haven't assumed your animagus form yet? But that leaves you vulnerable; you could die."

"It makes me human, Sirius. It means I can grow old with the people I care about – the people I love," she finished in a whisper.

Sirius peered into her glistening eyes. "And do I fall into that category?"

Aphiel sighed, "Sirius, not now—"

"Don't 'Sirius' me, Aphiel. Give me a chance."

Aphiel sighed again, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. She'd been so stressed about Tom Riddle it didn't occur to her that Sirius would still be waiting in the wings. "What are you, Sirius, eighteen or something?"

"Nineteen." He'd just had a birthday, and he was proud of that fact.

"Sirius, you're still a teenager."

"It's not like you're going to be getting any older! I'll be caught up to you in no time at all."

That stopped her short. "I haven't made that decision yet, Sirius."

"Just kiss me, Aphiel. Just once. And if you still feel the same as you did before, then I swear I'll back off."

She pursed her lips. It was just like the time she'd asked to kiss Albus so many years ago. "For the Greater Good," she mumbled to herself. "Fine. Just one kiss, but don't get your hopes—"

Sirius interrupted by grabbing her wrists and knocking her against a nearby bookshelf. Books teetered onto the floor, but he didn't notice. He gazed into Aphiel's eyes, just a few inches from his own. Then, edging closer to her lips, he could feel the heat of her sweet shudder as she exhaled a shaky, uncertain breath.

Aphiel wasn't sure what to do. Sirius was definitely too young, but as he brushed his lips against her jaw line, her brain seemed to freeze in place. The only distinguishable feeling she could process was the feverish sensation settling on her skin.

Painstakingly he leaned closer until his lips met with hers. Aphiel's trembling exhale gave her away, and Sirius blissfully began to nip at her bottom lip. She finally relented, opening her mouth and eliciting a soft moan as his tongue entered.

She felt a hand graze its way up her neck, the other rubbing across the small of her back, but – even as she shivered – her mind couldn't help but compare this moment to time spent with Tom Riddle. She'd had to work so hard, chipping away at Tom's carefully placed façade. It was an exhausting struggle, met only once with reward.

But now it seemed the roles were reversed. Here, an admittedly gorgeous young man was trying to offer himself to her, but the exhausting struggle was now spent keeping her own walls in place. Surrendering, Aphiel consciously decided to let go of her inhibitions, if just for a moment.

She brought her hands up to the base of his neck, and began to intertwine her fingers in his hair. Sirius responded madly, grabbing her thighs and lifting her into a straddling position around his waist. The kiss broke in that moment, and Aphiel had to decide if she would allow him another moment.

His eyes burned darkly, and in an impulsive, swift motion Aphiel pressed her lips once again to his. Their bodies crushed urgently against one another's, and Sirius wasted no time moving them to the oversized couch.

He laid her down on the soft fabric, taking a moment to peer into the deep slate of her eyes.

"You're amazing."

His words jolted Aphiel to her senses, and for the briefest instant she heard a young Tom Riddle echoing those same words.

"Oh Merlin," she panicked in a gasp, leaping from the couch. "This is real. I can't do this."

A flurry of confusion, longing, and frustration swept across Sirius's features. "What happened? You can't tell me you didn't enjoy what we were doing."

"I – I did, Sirius, honestly. I just – can't do this yet."

Sirius stared at her intensely for several seconds. "There's someone else, isn't there."

Aphiel shook her head desolately. "No, I haven't been seeing anyone. It's just – complicated."

"I get it," he finally sighed. "Beautiful demigoddess is bound to have a _few_ skeletons in the closet." He smirked and gave her a hesitant kiss on the cheek. "Let me know when things get less – complicated." Letting out a disappointed exhale Sirius exited the front door and apparated away.

* * *

Moros and Eris stood at the edge of Limbo, peering down on the world.

"Pathetic," Eris scoffed at her niece. "Immortality is within her grasp; she just lacks that – fire."

"Fire…" Moros rolled his eyes. "It was her most irritating trait."

"Oh please, Moros. You were always just jealous of the attention."

"Look there." Moros struck the misty floor with his blue-black smoke and peered into Little Hangleton. "Tom Riddle's been holed up in that shack since our little Aphiel paid him a visit," he let out a mocking snarl.

"I always liked Riddle. It's a shame he has to be so terrified of death. I would have liked to keep him."

"So take him then. You have the power."

"Do you know how much work it would be, brother? He's already split his soul twice. It would take years to mend him."

"You know full well, Eris, that it wouldn't take as long as all that with a bit of – _love,_" Moros chuckled.

"Ugh, don't disgust me. That wretched magic is always spoiling my plans."

Her brother continued to snicker at the thought of Eris loving anyone.

Far below, an oblivious Voldemort stewed in cowardly dread of the woman who had turned his life upside down so long ago – unaware that the gods were discussing his fate at that very moment.

* * *

A week later Aphiel sat at the bar of the Hog's Head Inn, sipping a dragon barrel brandy silently, when a silver-haired gentleman sat beside her.

"I remember the first time you came in here." Aberforth Dumbledore stroked his beard methodically, staring off into space. "I'd just taken over the Inn, and Albus and his lovely young friend _Aphiel_ came to celebrate."

"That had to have been nearly forty years ago." She continued to sip her brandy nonchalantly.

"Thirty-eight years next month," he affirmed with contentment and exhaled loudly. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that you haven't aged. Between you and Flamel and the rest of the oddities my brother refers to as _friends_, I'd nearly expect every wizard to live on forever," he chuckled softly before resting a kind hand on her forearm. "But what is it that's got you down, my dear?"

"Men."

Aberforth chortled lightheartedly. "Well, it's a good thing you came here before stopping by to see Albus. For all his brilliance my brother's utterly dim when it comes to love."

A smile escaped Aphiel's lips. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but you're probably right."

"Try me then. What's all the fuss about?" Aberforth raised an eyebrow.

Aphiel stifled a laugh as she glance at his overly serious facial expression. "Well, all right. But don't judge."

"You have my word."

She took a deep breath, preparing to divulge only the most basic elements of her dilemma.

"There's this man I used to like, but it ended horribly. It's been many years, and now a _younger_ man is showing a great deal of interest—" Aberforth listened in polite silence. "—I think I like the younger man, but I can't seem to forget about the older one." _Oh, and one was my student who just graduated Hogwarts and the other is a notorious dark lord…_ she thought morbidly to herself.

"Well, Aphiel," Dumbledore's brother frowned slightly. "I wish there was a quick wizarding fix to aid you in your problem, but it sounds as though you will simply have to confront the reasons why you feel so attached to the man from your past _before _you can progress with your future."

After a few more minutes of sage advice, Aphiel thanked Aberforth and exited the pub, feeling nervous but determined. Finally knowing what needed to be done, she set off to pack her things.

Aphiel was going to visit Tom Riddle one last time.

* * *

**It's tough to get a grip on Aberforth's character, but oh well, I tried. Merlin, it was uncomfortable trying to write the "love scene" with Aphiel and Sirius. I hope it paid off! Next chapter is all about Aphiel's encounter with Tom Riddle. Thanks for reading! -V**


	7. You're Not The One I Hoped For

**I'm still not satisfied with this chapter, but it does tie a few things together. And thanks to Frostivy for indirectly giving me the idea to explore Bellatrix's past. Enjoy!**

* * *

**********Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "**Untitled 1" by Keane

* * *

**7. You're Not The One I Hoped For  
**

"Peter Pettigrew and I are now in shared correspondence, my Lord. Is there _anything_ _else_ you desire?" Bellatrix Black bowed with a maniacal gleam in her eyes.

"There is nothing else, Bellatrix." Voldemort waved the witch away.

Black remained in front of her master. "My Lord, if you will allow it, I most humbly request an audience concerning – another matter."

The Dark Lord appraised her impassively. "I wondered when you would come to me, Bellatrix. I have perceived misgivings within you for many months."

"My Lord, forgive me. I have never doubted you. It is the discovery of _Amy Dixon's_ middle name that has caused me to question truth."

Voldemort tensed, cursing internally.

Bellatrix's eyes widened madly at her master's silence, and she continued. "Surely you remember the night you let me come to you. Never before had I understood how _all encompassing_ the power of the Dark Lord could be—" Bellatrix sighed at the memory before a cold expression suddenly replaced the look of ecstasy. "—Then you called out to her – _Aphiel._ My Lord, tell me it is not the same woman."

"_That – Is – Enough._" Voldemort lifted his wand, gagging the witch in a rage.

Coughing and grasping her neck, Bellatrix cried, "Every breath I take is yours, my Lord. My only desire is to serve you."

Voldemort replied with resentment and bitterness deep in his voice. "The witch you know as _Aphiel_ Dixon is never to be mentioned again in my presence." He released Bellatrix from the spell, and the witch fell to the floor. "Speak of this to no one, and the Dark Lord will forgive you for your loyalty."

Bellatrix thanked her master and fled the room. The pain of Voldemort's admission felt like a stake of ice being plunged through her heart. When she was finally alone, the witch grasped a sheet of parchment and began to write with excruciating effort.

_Dear Rodolphus,_

_I accept your proposal._

_Toujours pur._

_-Bellatrix_

Long after the letter left her grasp Bellatrix Black sat frigidly at the window with an icy stare that could have broken glass. Her life was shattered – all because of Amy Dixon.

* * *

Another week passed, and the Dark Lord grew restless. So when his eldest follower burst into his quarters unannounced, he surreptitiously welcomed the disruption.

"What is it, Avery?" Voldemort spat disagreeably.

"My Lord, we've captured a phoenix. We believe it's Dumbledore's."

Voldemort straightened, keen with interest. "Fawkes. Bring in this fated bird so revered by our Hogwarts headmaster."

Avery brought in a cage with a magnificent vermilion and gold plumed phoenix.

"That is not Fawkes," Voldemort immediately glared with disdain. "Though I saw the old man's bird only once, one does not easily forget the deep scarlet of its wings. _This_ one appears like flame itself."

"Forgive me, my Lord." Avery bowed his head nervously.

"Rise, Avery. The Dark Lord is always forgiving. We will find the true purpose of the phoenix lingering so close to darkness in due time."

* * *

Nagini slithered in after Avery's departure and curled up by her master's feet, but the rustle of wings in a cage distracted her.

"What troubles you, Nagini?" Voldemort placated the snake.

"_Garuda,_" she hissed vehemently, retreating to a far wall. "_Garuda…"_

Voldemort turned to the wall to console his pet and did not detect the emerald smoke surrounding the phoenix's cage. He did not see that the cage was now empty, nor did he sense the glittering mist gathering by door of his room.

To Voldemort's bewilderment the snake relaxed unexpectedly. Then she uttered a name that froze the dark wizard to his core. "_Aphiel,_" she hissed placidly.

Voldemort's features tightened with rage. "What – did you just say?"

"_Aphiel, the ally of the nāga – she is standing at the door."_

Voldemort whipped around, a jet of green light shooting furiously toward the goddess, but Aphiel caught it in her hand and turned it to dust.

"Tom," she whispered, almost reverently. Though there was little light in the room, her skin seemed to radiate the air's luminosity.

"You dare return," Voldemort seethed in spite of his terror.

"I just want to talk, Tom."

His rage subsided slightly at the earnestness of her countenance. "And what could the daughter of Death possibly have to say to the Lord Voldemort?"

"I need closure."

"Closure?" The Dark Lord laughed incredulously. "What closure could you possibly desire?"

_Here was the embarrassing part. _"For whatever twisted, sick reason – I still want you, Tom."

"It has been twenty-seven years," Voldemort replied without emotion. "The Tom Riddle you long for is simply no longer here."

Aphiel pressed her lips together resolutely. _It was time to lay it all out on the table._ "I want to kiss you, Tom. One last time. I just want to see what it is I still long for."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why?"

A single tear crept down the side of her left cheek. "Don't make me say it… Please," she added in a whisper.

Voldemort felt brave at the witch's vulnerable state, and he approached her audaciously. "You will tell me – or you will leave."

Her glimmering eyes widened slightly, and Aphiel tentatively answered the Dark Lord.

"From the moment I first saw you leave Flourish and Blotts when you were seventeen I knew I wanted you." She took a deep breath. "When I peered into the time sieve just to see you again I knew I needed you—"

"What is this time sieve you speak of?" His curiosity got the better of him.

"It belongs to the fates. Every pensieve and prophecy on this earth derive from it."

He glared with narrowed eyes.

"—I would have helped you to the ends of the earth, Tom. I abandoned everything for you – why did you leave me?"

_There it was. She'd laid it all out on the line._ All she could do now was wait for his reaction.

His reply was dark and full of command. "I do not love. I do not care. And I will conquer any semblance of death that comes my way."

"By running from it…" Aphiel shook her head. "You _are _a fool then."

Voldemort grabbed her by the neck furiously, but she sent him flying backward with a beam of wandless red light.

"_YOU'RE AN IDIOT, TOM._" She rubbed her neck lightly. "If you'd even _tried_ to love me I would have given you everything. I would have tied myself to you, and we would have lived forever."

The Dark Lord paused to assess her words. Then, finally, he painstakingly replied. "I could never love you or any other being on this earth. The only path to my immortality is the one I have already taken."

Green light burned in Aphiel's eyes as she turned to the man she once loved. It wasn't closure. It was complete and utter devastation.

"Lord Voldemort, you will _never_ be immortal—" Her hands were shaking, and her eyes were wide. "—I will make sure of it – if it's the last thing I ever do."

With a flash of green fire the immortal witch disappeared.

* * *

"She's _so_ _melodramatic_, isn't she?" Eris appeared in front of the man who was once Tom Riddle.

"Who are you?" he demanded in a low, threatening tone.

"Oh, calm down, Voldemort. I'm here to help," she quirked a seductive eyebrow. "I'm Eris, goddess of strife, et cetera, all that jazz."

"And why have you come? _Tell the truth_."

Eris pealed with laughter. "Oh, Voldemort. You're the most powerful wizard on earth. Whatever plans my niece has in store for you, I'm here to thwart them."

* * *

Aphiel appeared on the Potter's doorstep with tears in her eyes. _She'd_ been a fool for ever thinking Tom Riddle could care for anyone other than himself, and the only person she could even think to go to for help was the man she felt most hesitant to see.

James answered the door after several seconds of her fist pounding the wood.

"Professor Dixon, what happened?" he stood in the doorway in shock.

Sirius peered over from the sofa, and his heart stopped at the despair in Aphiel's eyes. Time slowed to the beating of his pulse as he ran and took the goddess in his arms. Aphiel buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed for several minutes, crying away the memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

* * *

**Oh, Merlin, everything's turning into chaos! ****Thanks for reading!** Sirius/Aphiel stuff next chapter. -V


	8. If You Were By My Side

**Wow! Everyone is so mad at Eris! I originally had the first chunk of dialogue here in the chapter 7, but it was pretty amusing to read the reactions from putting it off. Lol, Thanks for reading and for all the lovely feedback!**

* * *

******Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "A Bad Dream" by Keane**

* * *

******8. If You Were By My Side**

Eris appeared in Limbo in a pillar of smoke, smirking mischievously.

Moros peered up from his musings and stared incredulously at the goddess. "Why, hello there, sister. I happened upon an incredibly intriguing conversation in Little Hangleton while you were away."

"Is that so?" Eris raised an eyebrow. "Do elaborate."

Moros shook his head, biting back a grin. "Eris, you don't actually plan on _helping _Tom Riddle become immortal, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not, Moros. He openly defied my favorite niece," Eris snorted. "But Aphiel's current predicament is simply too good not to sabotage."

Her brother's eyes narrowed. "So you _do _plan to thwart her then?"

Eris's eyes glimmered with impishness. "Perhaps a little."

"Aphiel won't like it when she discovers your interference." Moros sent a calculated glance in the goddess's direction.

"Oh calm down, Moros. What's a few human lives—" Eris leered gleefully. "—She'll forgive all in time, give or take a century or two…"

Laughter echoed through the empty air as she and her brother plotted the strife and impending doom of their niece and her friends.

* * *

Over the next several months Voldemort's followers wreaked havoc on Britain, and – try as they might – the Order of the Phoenix struggled to keep the Death Eaters at bay.

James Potter's parent died of natural causes midway through 1979, a few short months before James and Lily's wedding.

The wedding itself was a quiet affair in Godric's Hollow, and very few of their friends attended. But the sky took leave of its gloom for one perfect day, and the sun shone brilliantly through the trees. Autumn leaves scattered around the crisp, grassy field, and a few late blooming flowers peppered the hillside.

A now twenty-year-old Sirius stood stiffly in his dress robes, and a demigoddess watched him from the trees. She and Sirius had formed a deep connection over the past several months, and her heart thumped wildly as she prepared to encounter the man she once shied away from so adamantly.

"Am I too late?" Aphiel whispered in his ear, causing the handsome wizard to jump ever so slightly.

"What? No, Lily hasn't arrived yet."

"I – I wasn't talking about the wedding—" Aphiel bit her lip. "—Sirius, things are less – _complicated_ now."

Sirius swung around, eyes widening with comprehension. A huge grin spread across his face. "Oh, I don't know," he joked. "I think you'll have to convince me."

A coy smile formed on her lips, and in front of Dumbledore, McGonagall and all of the Marauders, Aphiel kissed him soundly.

"Took you long enough," Sirius breathed seductively in her ear before proceeding to kiss his way back to her lips.

James immediately turned to Remus. "You owe me two galleons, Mooney," the groom laughed jovially.

Remus chuckled and tossed the gold coins at his friend. "Yes, well, you can consider it a wedding gift. Don't spend it all in one day," he added with a grin.

Lily arrived in that moment, and all thoughts were forgotten as the angel in white made her way to James's side.

* * *

A few days later Peter Pettigrew cowered before the Dark Lord.

"My faithful followers inform me that you go by 'Wormtail' among your friends," Voldemort coaxed the rat with mock pleasantry.

"Y-yes, your Lordship," Peter replied shakily.

"Then, Wormtail, do not fear. We will protect you here from any enemies you may possess."

The weedy young man relaxed somewhat. "Well, y-your Lordship, I witnessed the union of James Potter and Lily Evans three days ago. Very few of us were in attendance."

"Very good, Wormtail. What else have you discovered?"

"Aberforth Dumbledore has joined the Order." His confidence grew slightly.

Voldemort nodded in deep thought.

"Oh, and I don't know if this information is at all significant, but it does seem a bit odd. Aphiel Dixon, the former Ministry Pre-training professor seems to have started a relationship with Sirius Black."

Peter couldn't see into the shadows where his master sat, and he didn't notice the Dark Lord clench his fist in fury. Voldemort couldn't put into words why such trivial information caused him tangible pain, but the only emotion that could penetrate the torment was an inundating sense of betrayal.

With great effort he strained, "Go now, Wormtail—" Voldemort pressed his wand deep into the blackened snake and skull on his forearm, summoning his Death Eaters. "—It is time to crush this Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

The proceeding months were demoralizing for the Order. Benjy Fenwick had been slaughtered and the Prewett brothers taken down by not one – but five Death Eaters. The Potters and Longbottoms had escaped Voldemort's clutches three times, during which time Lily and Alice each discovered being pregnant. Then Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon were destroyed along with their entire families.

Aphiel sat in Dumbledore's sitting room, pale and emotionless.

"It's my fault, Albus."

"You can hardly blame your past interactions with Tom Riddle on_ Voldemort's_ actions. They are in essence, two completely separate entities."

"But you can't deny that my presence in the Order has provoked these recent attacks."

"What course of action would you suggest?"

Aphiel took a resolute breath. "I want to fake my death."

"That may prove difficult, Miss Dixon, considering your immortality."

"My I'm half-human, Albus. My immortality was stripped from me once. Who's to say it couldn't happen again?"

"And you're absolutely certain this is the course you wish to take?"

"Yes, Albus."

"Then, my dear Aphiel, if you truly wish to disappear I suggest you take _this_." Dumbledore handed her a dark, sleek cloak that disappeared over her fingers.

"It belongs to James Potter, who has asked that I hold on to it for the time being should anything happen to him. I think, perhaps, he would not mind if you borrow it."

Aphiel couldn't speak. The cloth warmed at her touch, and her skin glittered beneath the soft folds of fabric. She'd always heard the story of her father's encounter with the Peverells, but to have her father's fabled cloak in her hands was _too much._ She could literally feel the power emanating from the cloak in the hands of Death's daughter.

She shoved the cloak back Dumbledore's hands. "Don't offer that cloak to me again, Albus. It belongs to James." Her hands were shaking.

Albus eyed her with keen interest, curious at her response. "Miss Dixon, I was entrusted this cloak under the pretext that anyone in the Order finding his or herself in dire circumstances would be allowed access to this cloak—" His gaze narrowed as he detected a hint of bright green behind her eyes. "—Though I see that perhaps in this case you are right."

Aphiel did not hear Albus. The ringing in her ears and the heat from her limbs cried out for the Cloak of Invisibility. Suddenly she detected an unnatural pull toward the headmaster's robes.

"My dear, are you all right?"

Her hands continued to shake, and Aphiel's eyes shifted to Dumbledore's right pocket. "You have the Elder Wand, Albus, I can feel it." Her breathing became labored, and her mouth fell open from the excrutiating pain. "Why can I feel it?" Her skin began to feel of flame, and the glow in her eyes brightened to a dazzling, electric emerald. "I've got to get out of here." She disappeared with a crackling pillar of green smoke.

Aphiel landed in Godric's Hollow, several feet from where she'd planned. The Potter home – thanks to the fidelius charm – was now well hidden from view from strangers, but she could still see it, several strides out of reach. She turned to gaze in horror at her hands, still trembling from the touch of the Cloak of Invisibility.

Then, without warning, several Death Eaters surrounded the demigoddess. They stood back uncertainly, as Aphiel's shrieked in agony. It was as though her very skin called for the Deathly Hallows, blazing beneath the surface. _She was death_, and death wanted what was rightfully hers.

Her screams pierced the twilight sky, when Aphiel realized what had to be done. Lifting her eyes to the front porch of the Potter home, she spied Sirius struggling against James's iron grip as he tried to get to her.

"Goodbye," she whispered softly before bursting completely into flame.

"_NO!_" Sirius screeched at the flames until all that remained was a deep pile of ash. A part of his existence had just burned away before his eyes.

The Death Eaters disappeared quickly, eager to tell their master the odd events which had just transpired.

* * *

Eris shook her head at Aphiel as the witch materialized in Limbo.

"You think you're _so_ clever."

"Eris?" Aphiel rubbed her fingers together, relieved that the burning sensation had ceased.

"Hello, niece. How good to see you…" she rolled her eyes.

"What happened to me?"

"You mean you don't know?" Eris quirked an eyebrow. "I would have thought you planned every second."

"Albus Dumbledore had my father's cloak. When I gave it back it felt like my skin was on fire."

"Intriguing," Eris stroked her jaw line. "So your spontaneous bursting into flames had _nothing_ to do with the Death Eaters hiding out at Godric's Hollow – _or_ you wanting to fake your death?"

"No," Aphiel shook her head before rising abruptly. "I have to tell my friends what happened."

"Ohhh no you don't," Eris grabbed the witch by her shoulders. "You wanted to fake your death, and you've done it. I may be the goddess of strife, but I recognize a faultless opportunity when it comes my way."

"I need to say goodbye—" Aphiel insisted. "—to Sirius and Albus at least."

"Oh, _honestly_." Eris pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Don't be so melodramatic. Just write them a letter."

Aphiel peered down at Sirius through a misty portal in the ground for several seconds. If she returned, she'd have to try to fake her death all over again, and Sirius would have to grieve twice. With a resigned exhale she sighed, "You're right, Eris." Aphiel knew if she wasted her days clinging to her earthly life she'd be barely than Voldemort. "It's just hard to let go."

"Oh, Aphiel—" Eris set a hand on her shoulder and tried not to roll her eyes. "—that's so _human_ of you."

* * *

_Dear Sirius,_

_I'm sorry for spontaneously combusting and such. What's more exciting than watching your significant other burst into flames, right? _

_I'm recovering in the netherworld from what happened, but don't you dare get yourself killed to try and visit – it doesn't work that way. I'll come to you the first moment I get. I'm sorry for leaving you just when things got started. I _will_ come for you, Sirius._

_I promise._

_-Aphiel_

Sirius stared at the feather-light parchment in his hand that had appeared in a ball of fire at the foot of his bed. He took comfort in the fact that she was all right, wherever she was, but he was definitely looking forward to Aphiel's return. He'd snog her senseless then make her his—He loved that bloody woman.

* * *

"I received word from five of my Death Eaters that they witnessed the death of Amy Dixon. I trust you are here to relay the truth of these matters."

Eris laughed. "Yes, that was rather unfortunate. Aphiel was given one of Death's hallowed relics, and let's just say it didn't end well.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Surely the girl isn't _dead?_ "

"Of course not," Eris scoffed. "She's simply banished to the netherworld for a time."

"Ah, that is good news. Aphiel was undoubtedly instrumental in the capture of Dolohov and Avery," the Dark Lord articulated with displeasure.

"Are you certain that's why you're so relieved?" Eris teased. "I would have thought her forcible separation from a certain Sirius Black would please you."

Voldemort betrayed only a hint of a flinch in the goddess's presence. "The only pleasure I derive from that woman is to see her suffer."

"Whatever you say, Tom," Eris averted her smug expression from the Dark Lord's agitated gaze. "Well, I don't usually waste my time meddling in the lives of soulless wizards. I'm off to despoil a lovesick muggle or two – or fifty," she snickered to herself. "And _don't_ hope to see me again, Tom. _The only pleasure I derive is to see mortals suffer,_" she echoed his sentiments. And in a cloud of charcoal smoke the enchantress vanished from sight.

* * *

**October 31, 1981**

"Benjy, it's your move," Aphiel poked the short man.

"Oh, right. Go Fish."

"Benjy, we're playing Poker."

"Oh, right. All in."

"What's wrong, Fenwick?"

"I don't know, professor. I've just got a bad feeling. Marlene and Edgar got it too – like something awful's about to happen."

Aphiel bit her lip. "Maybe I should check on the Order." She'd made a conscious effort not to peek in on their lives up to that point. The temptation to return to her friends was simply too dangerous.

Benjy's face lit up. "That'd be brilliant. I wish I could come too. I'd give 'em a right, good scare."

She had just stood up when her eyes locked on a man's coming through the nearest gate.

_James Potter._

Aphiel's piercing scream echoed throughout the vast space of the underworld.

* * *

"Don't condemn yourself for leaving," Lily rested her hand on Aphiel's arm. "The attacks really did die down for a while. We just put our trust in the wrong person." Lily stared at the ground fretfully, and James clenched his fist.

"But Sirius was your secret keeper, he would never…"

"… Sirius convinced us to change secret keepers at the last moment." Lily's eyes were glazed with pain.

Aphiel's fingertips flew to her mouth as she cried. "I should have checked on the Order. I could've prevented this."

"Your return would have put us all at risk," James shook his head. "For whatever reason, Voldemort had it in for you and anyone you associated with."

Aphiel's heart stopped. "But Sirius is all right, isn't he?"

James stared at the misty ground. "No one knew that we'd switched secret keepers, not even Dumbledore. The Ministry will assume he's to blame."

"Well, I've got to do something." Aphiel rose to her feet. "I've got to find him."

"Good luck, Aphiel." Lily clasped her friend's hand gently. "And watch over Harry when you get a chance."

Aphiel nodded gravely and disappeared in a haze of green.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was uncharacteristically surprised when he spotted Aphiel sitting on his couch.

"Miss Dixon, to what do I owe the—"

Aphiel interrupted by throwing her arms around the old man. "Oh, Albus, I should have been here. I'm a textbook Slytherin coward." She sobbed into his robes. "I'm so sorry."

Dumbledore embraced her in stoic silence for several minutes before speaking. "Sirius has been accused of murdering Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles. He has been taken to Azkaban…"

At the mention of Azkaban Aphiel felt her pulse thud heavily. The thought of dementors anywhere near Sirius made her skin crawl. "No. No, no, no." She pushed herself out of Albus's arms. "Sirius is innocent. I've got to get him out of there."

She turned one last time to her former confidant before heading out the door. "Goodbye, Albus."

"Until next time, Miss Dixon." Dumbledore looked on in the midnight air long after his friend vanished from sight.

* * *

**I'm excruciatingly sleepy, but I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading. Yall are the best! -V**


	9. I'm A Path Of Cinders

**This chapter's a bit deity-heavy, but it explains a lot. Enjoy! Warning: Sirius shippers might get upset… and this chapter's pretty dark.**

* * *

**********Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "**Bachelorette" by Björk  


* * *

**9. I'm A Path Of Cinders  
**

Eris sat in intense silence among her siblings, deep in thought. For the past few months she'd been exerting far more effort than she preferred, and the work was utterly exhausting.

Three of her sisters, the Fates, surrounded their youngest sister.

"We see that the goddess of strife suffers discord of her own."

"How very astute of you—" Eris glowered that the Fates. "—Why don't you tell me something I _don't _know?"

"Oh, no…" One of the sisters inhaled dramatically. "We only deal in the fate of mortals."

"Though perhaps—" another sister replied, "—we could help you still."

Eris glared. "There are a lot of things about Aphiel that aren't adding up – things I never noticed before."

"Like her animagus—" offered one sister.

"—And how the nāga still accept her—" answered another.

"—And why the Deathly Hallows called to her," spoke the last.

Eris nodded. "The animagus of a deity is always connected to their heritage; it would be impossible for Aphiel to take the form of a phoenix."

"And yet—" another of the Fates spoke, "—She burst into flame before your eyes, like Garuda of old."

"How is she connected to that deity? She's clearly born of Death," Eris mused to herself. "Perhaps the mother…"

"We can tell you _we_ know," the Fates chanted in unison.

Eris looked up expectantly. "Tell me."

"The Peverell line – has no connection to the immortals—" The youngest Fate tantalized, and Eris hissed with disappointment. "—However, we happen to know a few other _family _secrets."

The goddess of strife straightened. "Go on."

"Oh, no…" The first sister cut in, echoing her sentiments from earlier. "We only deal in the fate of mortals."

"Curse you," Eris shouted. "You _know_ exactly what it is I want."

"Such knowledge is not for your young ears, dear sister."

Eris stormed away in a rage, intent on ruining the lives of many…

* * *

**May 1982**

Aphiel sat against the rocky shore of the Atlantic, eyes burning into the sunset. For six months she'd been searching for Azkaban, all to no avail. And it didn't make any sense… She was a goddess. _So why couldn't she find it?_

"Frustrated?" Eris emerged by her side with an insincere smirk.

Aphiel scowled, "Why can't I find Azkaban? I've searched every portal in Limbo and every fathom of this ocean."

Eris laughed. "Only those who have never tasted of mortality can see through unplottable enchantments. You lost that with your – rebirth."

Aphiel turned to her aunt with beseeching eyes. "But _you _can help me."

"I _could_ help you, I suppose – for a price."

"Name your terms."

A flicker of mischief shimmered in Eris's gaze. "Tell me how your animagus is a phoenix, when every other animagus in our family are so much more – _snakelike._

Aphiel froze, torn with indecision. Finally, with a stiff but resolute expression she replied, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"Then I can't help you," Eris shrugged coolly. "Too bad. The others aren't as fond of you as I am." She offered the witch a taunting glare before vanishing from sight.

Aphiel walked the beach a while later, deadened and alone. After several minutes she passed a quaint muggle village, and a man slightly younger than herself skipped over the rocks toward her.

"Oi, Miss, is everything all right? You look lost a bit."

"I _am_ lost." She gazed blankly at the ocean.

"Perhaps I can help you find your way."

Aphiel was suddenly struck with a terrible, wonderful idea. "Perhaps you can."

Her eyes flickered with fire, and the young man backed away uncertainly.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, peered sadly at the woman sitting so placidly in a cage before him.

"Amy Aphiel Dixon, you are charged with deliberately attacking a muggle through the use of magic near the city of Helmsdale. How do you plead?"

"Guilty." Aphiel glanced at the ground. She felt ashamed of giving in to her selfish impulses, especially as Albus was the one holding her accountable, but her desire to help Sirius overshadowed reason.

Dumbledore miraculously chose not to divulge the secret of Aphiel's immortality. He of all people knew how grief drove people to do the unthinkable. "And do you have any legitimate claim, my dear, as to why you behaved with such utter disregard to our laws and statutes?"

Aphiel looked her old friend squarely in the eyes. "I'm in love with Sirius Black, and I would follow him to the ends of the earth." Several gasps filtered through the crowd.

"But at what cost?" Another member of the Wizengamot burst out. "You're a disgrace to the name of Aurors – a disgrace to Hogwarts – to the entire wizarding community! Her records of achievement should be stricken from the Ministry archives!"

"That's quite enough," Albus silenced the room authoritatively. "Miss Dixon, as this is your first offence, and the muggle in question has been effectively healed and memory modified, your sentence will be reduced from twenty years to fifteen, at which time we will review your case to determine your release. Case dismissed."

He pounded a gavel against the podium, and Aphiel sat calmly as charmed belts fastened themselves around her hands. She even smiled as the Aurors levitated her toward the transport. She'd be seeing Sirius soon.

* * *

**Somewhere in the North Sea**

The dementors of Azkaban were utterly frustrated with their latest addition. Not only was she effortlessly chipper, but they couldn't penetrate whatever force was shrouding her soul. And though her smiles and exaggerated movements ruled out the possibility of an Inferius, they hardly detected her presence at all. All they could feel was _death_.

But her submissiveness to their demands caused their apprehension to diminish. The dementors were confident there would be no escaping once the witch was locked in her cell.

Aphiel was brimming with unreasonable and possibly hazardous anticipation as they entered the highest level of the prison, designed for top-security prisoners.

A woman with frizzy, unkempt curls and wild, dark eyes peered through the small barred window on her door.

"Impossible," she growled. "It can't be."

Aphiel's eyes widened in surprise. "Bella?" A long forgotten memory emerged in the demigoddess's mind…

_A seventeen year-old Amy Dixon snickered behind a pillar. "Well if it isn't Black and Skeeter, up to no good again," she boomed in a deep voice._

"_Who's there?" An agitated Rita Skeeter grabbed her friend's arm._

_Aphiel's deep, wild laugh echoed through the corridor._

"_Wait just a second—" Bellatrix shrugged the blond witch off her arm. "— I know that bloody, wicked laugh any day. Come out, come out wherever you are, Amy."_

_Amy popped out from behind the pillar, causing Rita to squeak with fright._

"_You know me better than most, Bella Black." She grinned at her sixth year comrade._

"_We're Slytherins, Dixon. We stick together…"_

Her former friend's livid glare shook her from the memory. "No one calls me Bella anymore," she spat. "It's _Bellatrix Lestrange._"

The shock rolled off Aphiel in waves as the dementors locked her in her cell. It seemed unfathomable that her previous school companion became the murderous torturer who drove Frank and Alice Longbottom into their incurable comatose states, but there was no getting around the truth.

"What happened to you?" The ache in Aphiel's voice was evident.

"I should say the same to you – _Aphiel,_" Bellatrix crooned in a high voice. "These are the top-security cells in Azkaban after all."

"It's complicated," Aphiel asserted confidently.

"It always is, love," Bellatrix's eyes widened crazily. "Or maybe it's something completely different. _Maybe – _the only reason you landed yourself here at all – was to see your _dear _Sirius."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aphiel denied instantly.

Bellatrix rasped a sickening laugh "I don't care about my precious little cousin," she scoffed. "There are other things about you that I can't seem to understand—" The demented witch pulled her face up to the bars. "—In all your time after you left Hogwarts you were nothing but an overachieving do-gooder with no time for friends. So _how is it_ that the Dark Lord cried out YOUR NAME – WHILE MAKING LOVE TO _ME!_"

Aphiel's heart stopped. Her brain literally seemed to freeze. Then, shattering the silence like glass, she heard _his_ voice at the end of the corridor.

"Oh, sod off, cousin. No one wants to hear about your obsessive fantasies with you and Voldyface."

Bellatrix heard Sirius and turned to Aphiel with a maniacal gleam in her eyes. "Sirius doesn't know, does he—" Sick laughter rumbled down the hall. "—Perhaps we should tell him now. Oh, _SIRIUS_…"

Rage percolated through Aphiel's insides, and in a burst of smoke the demigoddess was suddenly in Bellatrix's cell.

"How did you do that?" Bellatrix shuffled away from Aphiel in minute horror. "How _did_ you do that?"

Aphiel strode across the room, grabbing Bellatrix by the neck of her dirtied robes. "I wouldn't upset the very witch who causes your master cower with fear."

"The Dark Lord fears nothing," Bella retorted mutinously.

"Oh really—" Aphiel scoffed. "—When your master discovered just how powerful I was he literally fled from my presence. And I promise you this, Bella, if you so much as whisper a word of what you know about me to anyone, I will make your beloved Dark Lord suffer beyond compare upon his return. And you and each of Voldemort's Death Eaters will look like saints in comparison."

"You threaten him, yet you are confident that he will return," Bellatrix stared in manic curiosity.

"_Enough_." Darkened emerald flames crackled at her fingertips, causing Bellatrix to freeze completely.

After Aphiel returned to her own cell Bellatrix Lestrange sat in crazed thought, trying to keep from fainting. But she clung to reason that someday she would make Aphiel suffer – somehow.

* * *

Aphiel couldn't rush her reunion with Sirius, though she longed for it. Over the next several days she took the time to memorize the dementors' patrol times, intervals between breaks, and lengths of the breaks themselves.

Finally, when she was confident with her planning, Aphiel prepared to see her love.

Sirius felt especially empty. The despair of being wrongfully incarcerated racked at his insides, and there was nothing to distract from it except more despair, especially since his cousin, Bellatrix, no longer responded to his taunts. He wasn't even sure he could remember what a joke was anymore. It was getting late, and Sirius settled on his stone slab to sleep when a faint glow shimmered into view.

He sat up and blinked several times in the dark. "Is someone there?"

"Sirius—" Aphiel murmured softly. "—I'm so sorry I took so long."

"Aphiel," he breathed in a broken whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't leave you alone in Azkaban." Her voice was like rain in a drought, filling Sirius's soul with a long, lost glimmer of hope.

"Merlin, I missed you." Sirius grabbed the goddess in his arms, though with more pain and less strength than he'd hoped. "How did you find this place?"

Aphiel sat hesitantly beside Sirius. "You're not going to like it. I sort of – hexed a muggle to get here."

"_You what?_" Sirius jumped to his feet with a sudden surge of adrenaline. "What would bring you so low to sink to the same level as all the other bleeding scum here?"

Aphiel sniffed resolutely. "I couldn't find you, Sirius. Not anywhere. I was desperate."

"That's no excuse to curse a perfectly innocent muggle." It wouldn't have bothered Sirius so much if he hadn't just been falsely accused of blowing up twelve muggles himself, but the incident still felt a bit too close to home. "Get out, Aphiel."

"What?"

"Get. Out." Sirius turned away, far too upset to speak another word.

Aphiel's emotions couldn't settle between despair and fury at his heartless dismissal, so she parted back to her cell without speaking, afraid she might burst into flame from the tension.

"Have a spat?" Bellatrix teased through the bars.

Aphiel saw no point in lying. "I'm beginning to see that what I did to get here wasn't the best course of action."

"Just wait until he finds out about your little time spent with the Dark Lord—" Bellatrix giggled crazily. "—He'll never want you again."

Anger boiled beneath Aphiel's skin. Darkened flames began to burst from her pores, and she easily crushed the entrance of her cell. Several of the prisoners stirred and rose to their windows to see the commotion.

"How are you doing that?" Bellatrix's maddened gaze widened with trepidation.

The green in her eyes blackened as she met Bellatrix's terrified stare and echoed in a trance, "_I AM DARKNESS, I AM DEATH, I'M THE END OF EVERY BREATH. I AM CHAOS, I AM NIGHT, I'M THE SERPENT'S DEADLY BITE. I AM SHADOW, I AM PAIN, I'M THE FIRE THAT KILLS THE RAIN. I AM VOID, AND I AM SPACE, I AM MANKIND'S FALL FROM GRACE…"_

Sirius's mouth fell open as he peered through the door. As upset as he was with her he couldn't let her fall into the darkness.

"Aphiel," he called out to her. "This isn't you. _Come back_."

The goddess paused blankly as the wizard's pleas filtered through her ears. Somewhere the recesses of her mind must have understood, because the black fire shifted to a glittering emerald and then to dazzling gold.

"Sirius," her voice still carried in echoed depth. "I should have told you about _him._"

Dementors appeared at the entrance to the corridor, immediately surrounding Aphiel and attempting to penetrate the barrier to her soul, but the gold flames enveloped her body.

The dementors reached into the spiral of fire and grabbed Aphiel with their spindly fingers of bone, dragging her out of the corridor.

"Who was she talking about, Bellatrix?" Sirius shouted in a frenzied craze. "_BELLA!"_

Bellatrix snickered in a girlish high pitch, before letting out a jealous scream. "The bloody, dark witch _stole _him from me, before I even had the chance to show him my true dedication."

"_WHO, BELLA?_"

Bellatrix's scream turned to hyperventilated gasps. "I am his most devoted servant. Someday he'll see. SOMEDAY MY MASTER WILL SEE."

"No," Sirius breathed in astonishment. "It can't be." _Not him. Anyone but him._

"No one ever loved the Dark Lord like I did!" Bellatrix crushed herself against her door desperately, before shrieking in tears, "But he wants her still. He always wants her..." she sobbed frantically into her robes.

Sirius couldn't get another word out of his cousin. The thought of Aphiel ever being with Lord Voldemort in that way brought the most unimaginable pain to his heart. There had to be some sort of justifiable explanation – but Sirius couldn't think of any.

* * *

"You're ability to break through the dementor's defenses is most alarming, Miss Dixon," One of the few wizard guards holding her down – flanked with their patronuses – growled as they carried her to the uppermost level of Azkaban.

"Are you going to take me to another prison? Nurmengard, perhaps," Aphiel rolled her eyes.

"The penalty for attempting to escape Azkaban is the dementor's kiss. Enjoy your last few moments with a soul."

Aphiel nearly laughed as they handed the demigoddess to the dementors. Now was her chance to escape the heartbreak of losing Sirius. Just as the dementors closed in around her, Aphiel thrust herself away from their grasp and flung herself from the roof.

Gold flame danced around her skin as she flew faster and faster toward the ground. She crashed against the rocks, and her body tumbled toward the ocean. Even the dementors would believe her death was legitimate. Her body floated effortlessly into the sea, and she let the waves carry her wherever they may.

* * *

**So, yeah... pretty dark stuff. I had originally written this chapter completely differently with the intent of having Aphiel end up with Sirius, but now it could really go either way. Thanks for reading! -V**


	10. Hidden In The Deep

_Sorry it's short and took forever. Life's crazy. Always. Enjoy!  
_**And be warned. There's a HUGE time jump in this chapter.  
**

* * *

**********Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "Atlantic" by Keane**

* * *

**10. Hidden In The Deep**

An older couple walked hand in hand along a darkened beach when the silhouette of figure in the sand sent them jogging to the shore's edge.

The fair-haired woman knelt by woman's side. "Ye don't think she's dead, do ye?"

"Nay, she's breathing; s'watch."

Aphiel stirred and blinked.

"Are ye all right, Miss?" The woman asked.

Aphiel nodded slowly.

"Let's get her off the beach. She looks like she ought to have a hot bath and some sustenance." The man appraised the witch.

"What's your name, child?" The kindly woman spoke softly.

Aphiel paused for several seconds before finally opening her mouth. "Phoenix – my name is Phoenix."

"Well then, Phoenix, let's get ye cleaned up and hot cuppa soup in your belly, and then we'll talk about where you belong."

"I don't belong anywhere," she murmured quietly.

"Nonsense, child. Everyone belongs somewhere. And there may yet be some unknown reason you happened upon our lonely shore."

"Perhaps," _Phoenix_ followed the compassionate muggles to their tiny village, hoping the woman was right.

* * *

**August 31, 1995 (13 years later)**

Hermione Granger lingered beside Sirius at the kitchen table at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Sirius shuffled through a stack of papers without looking up. "Is there something you want, Hermione?"

"I've just been wondering, Sirius, about that photo Professor Moody showed us – of the Original Order of the Phoenix."

Sirius smiled weakly and peered up at the witch. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, in the muggle world we have timers you can set on your cameras to take pictures for you, but I haven't seen much of that in the wizarding world until quite recently."

"What's your point?" Sirius replied a bit too sharply.

"Well, who took the picture? I'm rather curious about all the members of the Order."

Sirius sighed. "Her name was Aphiel – and she died many years ago."

"Oh—" Hermione placed a hand gently on his arm. "—Was it the Death Eaters?"

Sirius turned to the young witch, looking more troubled than she'd ever seen him. "It was Voldemort himself who ultimately destroyed her."

"I'm very sorry, Sirius. I can't help but feel like I've seen that name somewhere recently," Hermione mused to herself. "It's not a very common name, is it…"

"You've seen her name somewhere?" Sirius's curiosity was piqued.

"I know I have, but I just can't—oh yes, I _do _remember. I read it in a book called 'Mystical Creatures of our Realm'. It's a lovely book about the rarest magical and mythical beasts of this world, like dragons and acromantulas and…"

Sirius rolled his eyes at the witch. _Of course she'd read the name in a book somewhere._

"… Then it mentions sphinxes and manticores and these great snakes from India called the nāga, and there's also a rather large section about phoenixes…"

This stirred Sirius back to the present. "Phoenixes?"

"Yes. I'm quite certain Aphiel's name was mentioned there."

He tried to appear nonchalant. "So tell me about this _other Aphiel_."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, Sirius, no one _ever _wants to know about the books I read; this is fantastic! I'll visit Flourish and Blotts at once! They have a copy in their archives." The witch shuffled excitedly away to get ready.

* * *

That evening Sirius came across a crestfallen Hermione.

"Did they have the book?" He sat beside her.

"It's been on loan for the past two months," Hermione appeared more confused than upset. "I don't understand. I was the first person to check out that book in years, but not even a week after I'd returned it, someone requested the book on long-term lease."

Sirius turned to face Hermione directly. "Hermione, this is very important. _Who _did they give the book to?"

She turned to Sirius, concerned and perplexed. "Lucius Malfoy."

The odds of it being a different Aphiel suddenly dwindled into nothingness.

"What did the book say about her?" Sirius implored urgently.

Hermione offered Sirius a quizzical look but filed away her suspicions for later.

"There was an account of a wizard in India who spent his life exploring the rain forests of Asia. He said one day that he'd fallen into a river during the monsoon season when 'a women more beautiful than words could describe' named Aphiel saved him. But when they'd made it safely to the other side of the forest he only saw a fiery bird of red and gold flying back into the trees."

"Interesting," Sirius focused intensely on the table in front of him.

"Sirius, this book was published over two-hundred years ago. It couldn't be the same witch, could it?"

_Oh, yes it could_. "No. But perhaps a relative. A family name," Sirius shrugged casually.

"But there's an odd connection to her description and the woman I read about in the section on the nāga."

"Nāga? What are the nāga?"

Hermione straightened up smugly. "They're a race of ancient snakes who descend from the gods of the underworld. The stories speak of a protector of the rainforest, a powerful witch 'whose beauty was beyond description'. _Beyond description, _Sirius! It could have been the same person."

"And the nāga – what do they say about phoenixes?"

Hermione frowned. "Well, it doesn't support my theory at all. The phoenix descends from their sworn enemy, Garuda. If Aphiel was the protector of the nāga, it doesn't really make sense for her to be a phoenix. I can't help but feel like I'm missing a crucial piece of information. And why would Lucius be interested the book, Sirius? It doesn't add up."

"I'll figure it out, Hermione. You need to focus on helping Harry any way you can."

"Well – all right. Good luck, Sirius." Hermione offered him a feeble smile and retreated up the stairs to find her friends.

* * *

A crowd of young children gathered around a fire along the beach, listening in rapt silence to the tale of the old woman with fair hair.

"Twas a night like tonight, thirteen years ago, when we found the maiden washed ashore. Her hair was black as twilight, her flesh sparkled in yonder moonlight, and her eyes glowed like emeralds. 'Phoenix,' she said her name was. We brought her into our home, fed her, bathed her, and offered a warm bed. But when morning came, the sheets were covered with naught but ash, and the _Phoenix – _was gone."

The children scarcely breathed as the old lady continued her tale.

"But that wasn't the end of the phoenix. You can see her still on clear nights much like this one – across the river, bursting into flame."

"Mama, please," a woman approached, scooping up one of the fair-haired children into her arms. "Ye shant go spinning these wild stories. It'll scare the children."

"Oh, nonsense, child. Tis a strange truth and nothing more."

"Mama, this is utter nonsense, and I won't allow…"

"_Look!_" One the children cried. "There's a fire across the river."

It started like a normal fire far in the distance, but the group fell silent as the flame shifted to green, then a bright gold.

"Ain't no common fire, daughter. Your mama has never lied."

The woman holding her son shuddered. "Hasn't someone gone over there? She could be dangerous – a witch or a demon."

"Don't judge what ye don't understand, dear."

But the old lady's daughter wouldn't listen. "First thing, tomorrow, I'm alerting the proper authorities. I won't have my son within a thousand meters of that thing."

* * *

Aphiel woke to the clamor of rock as someone scrambled up the cliff. Within a second she took on her animagus form, perching on a shadowed rock.

"Phoenix. Och, please, I've come to warn ye."

Aphiel hopped out of the shadows, inching toward the woman.

"Bless my soul," the woman gasped with wonder. "You truly are a phoenix."

Phoenix Aphiel inclined her head.

"My dear, I'm afraid my storytellin's gotten you into a bit of rough patch. The wee ones loved it, but my daughter's gone off and threatened to call the boabies. She's afraid ye might be some sort of witch or demon. I'm truly sorry."

Phoenix flew back into the shadow, leaving the woman a bit dazed, but when she reemerged the cavern the old lady nearly had a heart attack.

"Mercy, it is ye, truly." The woman seized her chest.

"You mustn't tell anymore of your stories, friend. Tales like mine reaching the wrong ears could mean my destruction."

"Forgive me, my Lady Phoenix."

Aphiel nodded, and took the woman by the hand. "Now, close your eyes and count to ten."

The woman counted to ten slowly and opened her eyes warily. As if by divine design she found herself back in her home in front of the fireplace.

"Oh great Odin," the old lady gasped. "I shant ever tell a soul…"

* * *

Lucius Malfoy strode over to his Master's side with a suppressed sneer.

"My Lord, I have received word of a stir in the north country of Scotland. There are whispers of a demoness living in the mountain – an enchantress who calls herself _Phoenix_."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he turned sharply toward Lucius. "So she lives," he articulated musingly.

"Forgive me, my Lord. I fear your obsession with this – _fairy tale creature_ may hinder your current endeavors concerning young Mr. Potter."

"Harry Potter is exactly where I want him, Lucius," Voldemort hissed. "You will soon see that Lady Phoenix is no invention of the mind, muggle or otherwise."

Lucius hesitated. "And this – Phoenix – she is the reason behind the books you requested?"

The Dark Lord inhaled dramatically. "I saw and heard much between my seeming destruction and resurrection. I became aware of truths I had been ignorant of for many years, but the world is ripe for change, Lucius. I now know things that will change the tide of the war – and this Phoenix you seem so eager to dismiss as _myth_ may yet be the key to our victory."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "And how do you suggest we capture such a creature?"

"All in due time, Lucius. If we are lucky, we may be able to capture _two birds with one stone_."

On that enigmatic note Lucius Malfoy departed the room, utterly perplexed at the motives of his Master.

* * *

**100 Hogwarts house points to whoever can guess what Voldemort means when he says, "two birds with one stone." Thanks for reading! -V**


	11. All Running From The Same Things

So, it feels like it's been forever. Sorry about that. Busy and Dizzy... This is kind of an explanatory filler chapter, and I'm sorry for that too. But I'm really hoping to get back into the stride of things soon. Enjoy!

Oh, and since Frostivy is the only one to answer the question from last chapter, they get a thousand house points! (lol, if only it were that easy)

* * *

**************Chapter Title is taken from my musical inspiration for this chapter - "Ghostbird" by Amanda Shires**

* * *

**Chapter 11 – All Running From The Same Things  
**

_Dear Sirius,_

_My parents occasionally send me articles from the muggle paper when something seems a bit bizarre, and I thought you might be curious to read this article that was reprinted from Aberdeen._

_Cheers,_

_Hermione_

Sirius opened the folded newspaper clipping and began to read with mild intrigue.

**Strange Fire in Scottish Mountainside – Finally Explained?**

_For the past thirteen years the northern outskirts of Wick have been host to a spectacular sight. An unexplainable blaze of many hues, set each night after dusk, has long lit the peak of the adjacent mountain range, though none have discovered its origin – until now, that is._

"_Old Lady Thompson was telling the wee lads stories, like she's always been keen to do. Her step-daughter dropped in from out of town and heard the children's favorite story – about the Phoenix," a neighbor from nearby reported._

_This 'Phoenix' story is one that Marina Thompson has told and retold for years – about a woman named Phoenix who appeared on her doorstep but left nothing behind but a pile of ash the next morning. Ever since this mystery woman's supposed stay, the strange fire has lit the mountain nightly._

"_Aye, Marina was a curious lady, but she was a fine storyteller. Ye can't help but believe it while yer in a story of hers. And ye've ne'er seen a fire turn green and gold like that, I daresay."_

_Mrs. Thompson's daughter-in-law, Cecilia Harris, informed the authorities of Wick of the potential hazard, but they responded indifferently, so she took matters to her hometown of Aberdeen, causing a stir all along the North Sea coastline._

_Finally a news crew, along with a team of archaeologists and conservation experts set off in search of the supposed mystical creature, and what they found was astounding._

_Dr. Cadence Kirke remarked on the findings with awe. "We found piles and piles of the most refined ash I've ever seen. We're working with our research team to analyze the contents. It's possible that there is some sort of volcanic activity occurring beneath the surface."_

_Unfortunately, the fire seems to have gone dormant for the time being. _

"_Nay, ye won't see the Phoenix again, I expect," another of Marina Thompson's neighbors commented. "There's been a fire in that mountain every day for thirteen years, but when Marina's daughter made a ruckus the blaze just stopped. Hasn't been a fire in two weeks. 'Tis a shame, really. The fire was such a beautiful sight – made the town something _more_." _

_Whether the cause of the flame is supernatural or geological one thing remains certain – something strange and amazing has been going on in Wick._

Sirius sat stone-faced as he finished the article. _Thirteen years_. The town was even on the North Sea. _Could it be?_ It seemed too much of a coincidence for Hermione to bring up Aphiel and discover the Phoenix's whereabouts within a month's time.

He remembered the ash left outside Aphiel's cell in Azbakan as the dementors took her away. Was it possible she was truly back? In spite of all he'd done to bury the memory of his former lover, Sirius could feel his heart pound erratically beneath his chest.

* * *

Hermione peered out the window into the Forbidden Forest as she sat at the window in her dormitory. She'd felt particularly pleased at her success in helping Harry's secret defense group, Dumbledore's Army, and she took a moment to bask in the moment as she glanced at the twilight sky.

She spotted a bird of flame dance across the night sky. _Fawkes_, Hermione beamed. But the smile turned to worry as another phoenix, one that blazed bright gold, joined Fawkes's side.

Without hesitating, Hermione darted stealthily from the dormitory, out of the common room and towards the Headmaster's office.

She stood dumbly in front of the Gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Blast. I hadn't even thought about the password."

A shadow appeared before her eyes. "Then it is fortunate, my dear, that I thought to take a stroll about the corridors." Professor Dumbledore beamed cheerfully beside her.

"Please, sir. I know it's nearly curfew, but I need to ask you a question about Fawkes."

To Hermione's dismay, Dumbledore ushered her away from the entrance to his office toward the staircases. "Perhaps, Miss Granger, a bit of fresh air would be more appropriate for this discussion."

They exited the front doors of the castle, and Hermione followed him impatiently toward the lake.

"Now, Miss Granger. What about Fawkes has you so concerned?"

"It's not Fawkes, Professor. I spotted a second phoenix flying alongside him just now – one I've never seen before, and I was simply curious if you'd seen it before."

The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "And so you came rushing to my office to inform me that Fawkes has acquainted himself with another phoenix?"

Hermione took a determined breath. "I don't believe it's another phoenix, sir."

"Is that so?" he mused.

"Sir, there have been stories in a muggle newspaper in Scotland—"

Dumbledore cut her off. "I'm well aware of the reports, as I have already looked into the matter myself."

"And what did you find?" Hermione brimmed with anticipation.

Dumbledore peered at the sky where Fawkes and his mysterious companion finally emerged into view. "I think, perhaps, Miss Granger, that your focus should be – not on the phoenix – but on helping your friend through this difficult time."

"But, sir, _Snuffles_ said—"

"It is nearly curfew, my dear. I suggest you head off to bed and put your mind at rest. Fawkes has an uncanny sense of intuitiveness. I have no doubts that whomever he is flying with is a creature we can surely trust."

Hermione strode back to the Gryffindor common room, feeling quite put out. No one was going to keep her from finding out the truth about this new phoenix.

Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore continued to gaze at the creatures in the night sky. The second fiery bird let out a searing melody, one he recognized as sadness and lamentation. Then she sank toward the earth in a blaze of black, green, and gold.

Dumbledore stared wistfully into the trees. "Welcome back – Aphiel."

* * *

The next morning Aphiel awoke in a pile of ash to a cold nose nuzzling her face.

"AH," she gasped backing away from the animal. "Oh no – not _thestrals_." Thestrals were the epitome of death – and part of what she'd been hiding from for the past several years.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know someone else was here."

Aphiel swung around toward the airy silhouette of a voice, spotting a girl with long, wavy blonde hair and wide blue eyes. "Who are you?"

Instead of answering, the girl simply smiled placidly. "Perhaps I should ask you the same question. Strangers probably shouldn't be wandering so close to Hogwarts, you know, but I suppose you're not so bad – if the thestrals like you."

_Who was this girl?_ "You think you can trust me, because creatures of death feel comfortable around me?"

"Of course. Thestrals can sense your soul."

"That's absurd. Besides, I _have_ no soul." Aphiel rose regally. "And you shouldn't trust me."

"You're in hiding then?" The blond girl saw right through her vague misdirections. "It's all right. I won't tell anyone."

Aphiel creased her eyebrows in greater confusion. "Didn't you just hear me? I'm dangerous and soulless."

The girl shrugged. "Well – _I _can sense your soul, I think. And I don't think you're quite as dangerous as you say you are."

Aphiel shook her head in disbelief. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Oh, I'm sure you're capable of being dangerous; I just don't think that's who you are." Her light voice seemed so self-assured and unwavering.

The demigoddess could think of no witty reply. "Well, if you insist on placing your trust in a complete stranger, you may as well know my name. It's Phoenix."

"Oh, lovely. Is that why you're covered in ashes?"

Aphiel realized the girl was right, and with a wave of her hand the ash was gone from her face and skin.

"Are you the phoenix that was in the paper in Scotland? My father reprinted the article in the Quibbler. The story was quite fascinating."

Aphiel felt oddly relaxed next to this complete stranger before her and decided to throw caution to the wind and continue the conversation with the eccentric young woman_._

"Knowledge of my whereabouts could put you in danger. Are you certain you wish to know?"

"Oh, I don't ever tell secrets. I don't have any friends to share them with anyway."

The unabashed truth made Aphiel pity the girl, though she seemed as chipper and oblivious as ever.

"I'm Luna Lovegood, by the way."

Aphiel suddenly felt a surge of emotion. She wanted to confide in this odd child. "My name isn't actually Phoenix. It's more of a nickname or a title—"

"Oh, that's okay. I don't need to know your real name." Luna smiled. "However I'm quite curious how you came to have such a lovely nickname."

Aphiel smiled distantly at the memory. "I once saved a phoenix from death. Since then he's sort become a part of me."

"So you were the one flying with Fawkes last night. That's very interesting. I thought perhaps it was Professor Dumbledore."

"You know about the headmaster's animagus?"

Luna nodded blankly. "Oh, I suspected as much. I couldn't imagine Professor Dumbledore as anything else. Could you?"

Aphiel pondered the thought and shook her head. "No. Albus could never have been anything else."

"So where are you going to go now?" Luna changed the subject while gazing at the thestrals before her. "You've been living alone for thirteen years. It must be difficult to readjust I imagine."

Aphiel grimaced. "I don't know where to go. I don't think anyone will want to see me like this."

"Well, perhaps you shouldn't think about that—" Luna offered in an absentminded tone. "—If you don't know who wants to see you, perhaps you should go to the person _you_ want to see most."

The demigoddess peered at Luna and slowly broke into a wide grin. Then hastening to a thestral she climbed up and beamed at the young witch. "Luna Lovegood, you're wiser than I gave you credit for. Thank you for your help."

Luna smiled dreamily as the mysterious witch disappeared from view. "Goodbye, Phoenix. Perhaps the thestrals and I will see you again soon."

Twenty minutes later Aphiel stood in between the brick of 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place in her black, hooded cloak. Surely he was there. Surely he would see her. Surely he'd _want_ to see her. Aphiel took a deep breath and resolved to wait.

* * *

"Terribly sorry it took so long." Arthur Weasley nodded to the others as he sat down for a meeting for the Order of the Phoenix. "Molly's not feeling up to coming. And then there was a woman sitting so close to the front steps I nearly tripped over her on the way in."

Remus looked a bit alarmed. "A woman outside? Perhaps she's trying to find the Order."

Sirius scoffed. "Or she's an old friend of the dear old Black family. Let her rot for all I care."

Alastor Moody was the last to arrive, walking in more hesitantly than usual, with an expression of deep deliberation.

"Whatever's the matter, Moody?" Tonks chimed brightly.

Alastor glared at the others sitting at the table. "Begging your pardon, but there's a bit of business concerning a member of the first Order of the Phoenix that I'd like to discuss before we begin."

Remus nodded. "Of course, Alastor. We're all ears."

"Aphiel Dixon."

Sirius froze.

"Who is Aphiel Dixon?" Arthur peered up in confusion.

"You know—" Tonks shrugged. "—She's that famous Auror who – _went off the deep end._"

Arthur nodded and Sirius clenched his fist as Moody went on.

"Now it's now standard practice to bring up former members of the Order, but we need to discuss right now whether she's on our side or not."

Sirius could contain himself no longer and stood abruptly. "And why – after all these years – would you even mention her name? She died in Azkaban."

Alastor, also standing, leaned in with growl. "You of all people know that's not true."

"Hang on just a second!" Tonks interrupted. "If she's not dead, what happened to her?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Alastor offered gruffly. "She's sitting just outside."

Time stopped for exactly one heartbeat as Moody's words sank in, and in an instant Sirius was on his feet.

Only Lupin reacted fast enough, holding Sirius back with every ounce of strength. "You – can't – just go barreling out into the open – Sirius," Remus struggled. "We don't know whose side she's on."

"_I DO._" Sirius fought against Remus's grip. "You didn't see her in Azkaban. She would never betray us."

Alastor growled, "Then explain how she landed in Azkaban in the first place? She disappeared for months just to reappear after torturing a muggle."

"She wasn't herself," Sirius strained. "Let me just talk to her."

The remain Order members stared blankly at the encounter in front of them. They'd never seen Sirius with such a crazed, desperate look in his eyes.

Finally Arthur interrupted the strained arguing. "Perhaps if someone were to stand guard on the porch or stand _with Sirius_."

Remus shook his head. "Sirius can't risk leaving the house."

In the moment of distraction, Sirius threw Remus off of him and thrust the door open.

"She's _gone,_" his voice fractured with disappointment.

Alastor yanked Sirius back into the house. "Get a hold of yourself, you lovesick buffoon."

"Sirius, try to see reason," Remus pleaded. "Aphiel might not be the same person she was all those years ago. It could be a trap. Unlikely as it may be, she _could_ be working with Voldemort."

The mention of Voldemort's name took Sirius aback. His cousin's maniacal words rang in his ears.

"_No one ever loved the Dark Lord like I did… But he wants her still. He always wants her..."_

In a daze he allowed the others to pull him further into the house. Perhaps it was a ruse after all.

Alastor peered toward the alley with his magical eye and clenched his jaw as he spied the true reason for her sudden absence. Through several layers of brick he could see the witch writhing in despair as flame danced across her skin.

"We'll discover the reason for her return, but until then this remains as confidential as any other business for the Order. Understood?"

Everyone nodded in agreement, except Sirius. Heartache and betrayal clashed relentlessly in his mind, and for once, Sirius had no idea what to do.

* * *

**So I'm not sure what provoked me to put Luna in the mix, but what's done is done. lol. I'm hoping to get the ball rolling, but my mind is crazy, and I'm not sure what I'm doing. ha. Thanks for reading! -V**


End file.
